Don't Call Me Nymphadora
by Adali
Summary: Nym Tonks is small, skinny, and, well, nobody really. Okay, so maybe she's a witch. But so are lots of other people. If only her life was as simple as theirs. Featuring baby Draco, Weasley clan, and lots of Maurauders[Chapter 31 up]
1. The Hogwarts Express

_I'm reposting the earlier chapters of this story, because I've gone through and done a couple of edits. I started this when there were almost no fanfics for Tonks, and still haven't finished it, but it's coming along. On an unrelated note, the timeline in this story is ever so slightly skewed. Not enough that it not to work, but it's a slight artistic license so I can bring in all sorts of fun characters (the Malfoys, the Weasleys, the Marauders and so on). Yes, Sirius should not still be at Hogwarts, and I'm pretty sure Bill is actually older than Tonks, but since JK Rowling, despite all else, has not put out an explicit time line, please be tolerant and let me have my fun. Speaking of which: the usual disclaimer applies. Original characters and most elements of plot belong to me, but anything recognizable either from the Harry Potter series or another source belongs in whole to it's author or creator._

**The Hogwarts Express**

Chapter One

Every year the scarlet steam engine left the station at the same time on the same day, taking young children away to school. Every year there were familiar faces missing, replaced by smaller new ones that wore slightly wondering, fearful looks. Such a face belonged to Nymphadora Tonks, who curled in the corner of an empty compartment, carefully not looking at anything within the train. It was all too new, too strange.

Nymphadora was a witch, or so her mother said. Sometimes, when her mother was being picky, she would amend that Nymphadora _would be _a witch, after she went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and learned something about magic. Nymphadora had her doubts. She'd never done any of the things witches were supposed to be able to do. She couldn't turn into an animal, she couldn't brew potions for sleep and healing and love, and she certainly couldn't fly on a broomstick.

That, her mother always said, was because she hadn't learned to do any of that yet. But she would. She had better. Then she'd always laugh, and promise that Nymphadora would be just fine.

Her mother said a lot of things about how much Nymphadora would love Hogwarts, but she never talked about her own time there. She'd never even said which House she'd been in, though she'd carefully explained each of them to her daughter. Andromeda Tonks never talked about her past. She hadn't even told her daughter she was a witch too until Nymphadora received her letter from Hogwarts. Then she'd freely admitted it, although she hadn't elaborated.

"Why didn't you tell me?" eleven year old Nymphadora had demanded.

"I couldn't be sure you were magical, dear. You might have been a muggle like your father. I didn't want you to go through life hoping for something, and then maybe not get it." That, Nymphadora had thought, was grossly unfair. She'd always known she was special, and her mother had known it too. Well, not always. Only after first grade, when she found out the other children couldn't change the colour of their hair by thinking really hard about it and wishing. Her mother had known about that too. Why else would she have forbidden her daughter to tell anyone about it, ever, and to never, ever change where people could see her?

When she'd received her letter, she'd asked her mother if she could tell people at Hogwarts. She didn't want to; it had become her own special secret. But if everyone else could do it, what was so special about it? "If you really want to, dear. But be careful who you tell. Not everyone can do it, and it might scare them." So it was still her own special secret.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" asked a voice. She glanced up fearfully, the looked away quickly. The boy looked a bit older than her, not much, but he was quite a bit taller. And he was a wizard. Nymphadora still hadn't gotten over the idea that she could be turned into a toad at any time.

Besides, he looked a bit scary in his long black robes. Nymphadora had ones like them in her trunk, but she didn't think they'd make her look as… magical as the boy's did. His blond hair was a bit curly, which didn't really bother her, but his eyes seemed to see all the secrets of the world, all _her _secrets. His nose, upturned a bit, looked sinister rather than plain.

She squeaked something in assent, and looked carefully out the window, not looking at the thin reflection of him she could see in the glass. "This is your first year, isn't it?" he asked. He sounded kind, but it might be a trap. Her mother had warned her about magical folk.

"Not everyone's good, Nymphadora darling. You know that. The same is true of magical folk. Some are very nice, but there are some not so nice ones as well," Andromeda had said, giving her daughter a hug. "I don't want my darling getting hurt. If ever you're in trouble, look for Sirius Black. He's my cousin, and he might be able to help you."

"Yes," Nymphadora whispered.

"It's alright to be a bit nervous. Almost everyone is."

"You aren't," she whispered back. He seemed alright. But it might be a trap.

"Well, I'm in my second year. I kind of know what to expect. But I was nervous last year, too."

This admission made him seem a lot less threatening. Nymphadora managed to look at him without cowering away. "What's it like?"

"It's school. Have you gone to school before?"

"Yes." Did that mean wizard children didn't?

"Well, it's like that. There are some kids you like, some you don't. There are some teachers you like, some classes, some you don't. There's sports teams and homework, and detentions if you're bad, but first years don't get those very often."

That sounded so much like the local grammar school Nymphadora had gone to that she found herself smiling in relief.

"It's a bit different, I mean," the boy amended, "what with the magic and the ghosts and the castle and all."

"Ghosts?" Nymphadora squeaked. All the confidence she'd felt evaporated.

"Yeah, there's some ghosts at Hogwarts. But they won't hurt you," he assured her. "Most of them are really nice. If they aren't, they just ignore you. There's none that's really mean. Well, there's Peeves the poltergeist, but he's not really a ghost. And he just plays pranks and tricks on people, even if some of them are really mean or rude or inconvenient."

"Oh." He smiled reassuringly at her, and she felt a bit better.

"I'm Rick Trelawney, by the way."

"I'm," she paused. "I'm Nymphadora Tonks," she said a bit lamely. She had often felt that any parent who named their child Nymphadora must really hate their offspring. Her mother loved her, she knew, but that hadn't stopped her giving her first and only daughter a terrible name.

Rick seemed a little surprise. "I thought you were a muggle-born, from the way you talked."

"I am. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"My mom's a witch, but my dad's not."

Rick nodded. "I wouldn't go spreading that around if I were you. Some people don't take so kindly to it." Then he became cheerful again. "You don't like your name, do you?" Nymphadora shook her head firmly. "Don't worry about it." Nymphadora remembered how he'd said not to worry about the school, either. If anything, she was more worried now, not less. "All the kids of pure blood families have terrible names. Like my parents, they called me Richalus."

"That's not as bad as Nymphadora."

"There're kids here called things like Bellatrix and Rodolphus and Rabastan and Phineas and Araminta and Elladora and Narcissa and Lucius and all sorts of other bad ones." He ticked the names off his fingers. He leaned closer. "Between you and me, try and stay away from the kids with names like that. They tend to be the bad lot, and they don't like muggle-borns."

"But how can I tell, if they all shorten them?" Something like panic was rising in Nymphadora's chest. It wasn't panic, though, because she'd past panic a long time ago.

"They don't. That's what I mean. They're proud of their horrible old-blood names."

"Oh."

"So what do you call yourself? Or is it always 'Nymphadora'?"

"Nymphadora," Nymphadora said miserably.

"We'll just have to change that, won't we? We can just tell everyone your name's Nymph, or just Nym if you like."

"Nym is fine, I guess."

"Better than Nymphadora, though, right?"

"Much." And home, Nymphadora thought, was much better than whatever this Hogwarts place was.


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Welcome to Hogwarts**

Chapter Two

Nym readjusted her hood and huddled closer under her cloak. It was dark out, and a chill was blowing down from the hills, made colder by the waves that rocked the little boat she huddled in. There was a little lantern at the bow end, but it shed only a small, half hearted globe of light that didn't even light halfway toward the stern. Around her, two of the other students huddled within their cloaks, one of them muttering. The third sat up straight, headless of the chill and stared around with an expression of awe that Nym could barely discern. What the boy was awed at she couldn't think, because there was nothing to see. The black sky was overcast and menacing. She could feel the electricity in the air that heralded a thunder shower. Under the little boat the unseen black waves tossed them back and forth, as the boat unerringly followed the pale glows that marked the other boats.

She thought longingly of Rick, her one friend in this alien place. He'd have some joke, or cheerful explanation, to make all this a little less scary. She'd lost him on the platform as they unloaded, just after he told her not to worry about taking her trunk with her. She'd looked for him as she'd followed the giant man who had bellowed for the first years to go with him, and again when they had loaded into the boats. He hadn't been among the crowd. Nor, now she thought of it, had anyone else who looked to be any older than she herself. It was just the first years.

What if something went wrong, she thought in alarm. There was no one here who could do magic. Well, except the giant man in the lead boat, but he couldn't even see the boats at the back. He wouldn't be able to help them if something went wrong. Something moved in the water to the side of the boat. Just a wave, she thought, trying to reassure herself. Except that it was moving against the waves. She bit back a shriek when a dip of the bow showed her that the thing was huge, and pink, and obviously attached to something even bigger and pinker. It wouldn't hurt her, she thought, it couldn't. She was in a wizard boat, wasn't she? She couldn't be hurt by something outside. There had to be protective spells or something. Her mother had mentioned those. She'd said Hogwarts had all sorts of them, said it was the safest place there was. So whatever it was couldn't get her. Could it?

At her cousin's wedding when she was five, Nym had tripped in her fancy party shoes and set fire to the table. When she was eight, she'd knocked over a twenty foot display of canned produce in the local grocery. Once again, Nym's natural clumsiness caused her trouble. The little boat crested a particularly large swell and went airborne for a second before crashing into the trough between the waves. In that critical second, Nym had been leaning over the side, trying to get a better look at the giant pink whatever. When the boat hit the water, she fell overboard with a cry, swallowing the black water as she pitched headfirst into the pitching waves.

She battled furiously with the waves, trying to swim back up to the air in her sodden robes. She was a strong swimmer, but the wet fabric dragged her down. Her head broke the surface and she coughed, gasping air just as another wave broke over her. Down she went again, fighting with all her strength to stay up. When she found air again she was on a swell, and could see for quite a distance around. There were lights a little overhead, so small that they must be a long way off. Not the boats, because these were brighter and stayed in one place while she moved. The castle, then. She couldn't see the boats anywhere.

She tried to swim towards the castle, determined that there, at least, there must be land, but as if sensing her thoughts the water began to drag her farther away. Each time she was washed under she would come up again, coughing and gasping and farther away than ever from the lights. A few times she tried screaming for help, but either no one could hear her over the waves, or there was no one to hear. She was going to die, she knew it. She hadn't even made it to Hogwarts, and already she was going to die.

Something grabbed her robes and pulled her down, under the surface of the lake. She fought, gasping air just as she was wrenched down under the throbbing waves. Please, she thought, let it not be the pink thing. She couldn't see anything in the black water. No, she could. There was something, something holding her… a person.

The person held up a dim lantern of sorts. There must have been something funny about it, because she could have sworn the person, a hard faced woman, had green skin. Her hair, what Nym could see of it, seemed a dark blue. "You're one of those students, aren't you?"

Nym was so shocked at being addressed, by some unknown woman underwater in the middle of a storm that she gasped, swallowing water as she did. She fought to hold her breath and nod, knowing she had almost no air left in her lungs. Almost no time left to live.

The woman grabbed the back of her robes and dragged her through the water at a terrifying speed, sometimes surfacing for a second so Nym could gasp a breath, inhaling what seemed gallons of lake water each time she did. The lights seemed to be getting bigger and brighter. That's it, Nym thought. I'm dead, and this woman's an angel taking me to Heaven. I guess Grandma was right, and there is a God. I'm really going to catch it now. What'll Mother say?

The angel heaved her up on a dry stone pier, where she coughed and wretched up the lake water. She couldn't see any lights anymore, but there was a sort of glow about the place, and the water was calmer. The little boats, which she had left what seemed a life time ago, were tied up a little way along the pier, their lights darkened. This can't be Heaven, Nym thought as she lay down on the pier, gulping the sweet air. You're supposed to feel good in Heaven, and there's supposed to be lots of light. Right now, I feel the worst I ever have, I think.

Thinking of Heaven reminded her of the angel, who was perhaps just a woman, who had saved her. She cast around wildly for a second, before her muscles took on the consistency of the water she had just escaped and she crumpled back onto the stone. In her frantic search she hadn't seen the woman anywhere. She hadn't seen anyone. She was alone in the dark, in a strange place. She wanted to cry, but her body couldn't manage the effort.

I want to go home, she thought miserably. Home is where I belong. Home is safe and warm and dry and I understand home. Not this place. This is cold and dark and scary and nobody talks to me.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out the outline of a large door, edged in shadow that wasn't quite as deep as the rest of the darkness around her. There was light on the other side of the door, she was sure. Light, and maybe warmth. If only she could stand, she could go to it.

She tried a few times, but she could hardly lift her head. She could just lie there. The stone floor wasn't so bad, really. It was getting more comfortable all the time, and a bit warmer, from her body and… no, she thought fiercely. I will get to that damn door.

The very word damn gave her the strength to sit up, where she promptly retched just to the side, over the edge of the pier into the water. She wasn't allowed to use it at home. Mother said it was a bad word, and that good girls shouldn't even know it. Daddy said it a lot though, when he was talking about work, and Nym had heard him use it. She also heard a lot of other words, which she didn't dare repeat in front of Mother.

She repeated them over and over in her head now, as she crawled along the stone floor to the door. By the time she reached the doors, leaning against them and leaning her head back, she wasn't scared anymore. Just very angry.

She could feel carvings in the wood behind her head. Gripping them in her frozen fingers, she pulled herself up to her feet, leaning heavily on the door. Which promptly swung inward, dumping her in a heap on the warm stone of inside, with a very bright light shining from somewhere overhead. She gasped a few of the words out loud.

She was in a very brightly lit space. Her eyes weren't adjusted, so she couldn't make out the details, but it seemed very large and very grand. There was a door a hundred paces off, a very big set of double doors that opened into what seemed an infinite space. She could hear noise from over there, like hundreds of people whispering, and a few shouting. Grabbing hold of a suit of armor next to her, she pulled herself to her feet, where she swayed. She didn't even notice when the metal figure put out its arm to steady her.

Through shear will she marched towards the big door and the noise. She wasn't sure why she was going there, instead of lying there on the nice warm stone. She staggered a few time, tripped a few more, but made herself keep her feet. Finally she reached the doors. She just wanted to lie down, go to sleep. When she woke up she'd be back home, and her mother would be calling her for breakfast.

Dreams don't hurt this bad, she thought bitterly. She leaned against the door, concentrating on not falling over. Once she fell down, she knew she wouldn't be able to get back up.

"There she is," someone yelled, at what seemed a great distance. Nym was so surprised to be able to understand the babble that she had just let wash over her that she forgot about staying upright. Her legs gave out under her and she sat down, hard.

There were people around her, fussing and talking. Someone wrapped her in a thick blanket. Someone else put a big mug to her lips. She sipped obediently, tasting something thick and warm that burned all the way down before settling like a little furnace in her stomach. The warmth spread along her arms and legs, restoring feeling and movement wherever it touched. She flexed her fingers, surprised to find how stiff they had become.

She looked up, seeing the people clearly. There was a woman with curly brown hair under a matron's cap and an apron, checking her pulse. A tiny man with a bushy white beard was adjusting the blanket around her. A tall, fierce looking woman was pushing back what seemed a tide of black. The water, she thought, it's come back to get me. It was cheated of me, and it wants me now. That was foolish, she realized a moment later, when she looked up and saw a sea of pale faces staring at her, jostling as the ones in the back tried to get a better look at her.

A very old man knelt beside her, looking at her with concern. He seemed a very nice man, if a very odd one. Much of his heavy plum robe was obscured, from her vantage, by a long white beard. Very young, cheerful blue eyes twinkled out at her from under half moon glasses.

"Ah, we seem to have found our errant pupil," he said quietly, and though Nym had the fleeting

impression that everyone heard him speak, it seemed he was making a little joke just for her benefit.

Nym looked at him, and at the matron woman, and the tiny man, and the stern woman, and the crowd of people trying to look at her.

"Wotcher, Hogwarts," she said, before her lunch of cheese sandwiches came up violently.


	3. Sorting

_Regrettably, in the reposting, we lose the original replies to comments made by reviewers. This does not mean I don't absolutely love your comments: I just don't have time to type out all those replies. I'll give you guys some new chapters instead, okay?_

**Sorting**

Chapter Three

"How are you feeling, dear?" the matron woman asked, when Nym's shoulders stopped heaving.

Nym could only stare at the woman. Wasn't it obvious? "Been better."

"Headmaster, I'll have to take her upstairs to the infirmary."

"Not just yet, Poppy."

"But Professor…"

"No Poppy. She has to be Sorted." That's how he said it. Like it was capitalized. Nym wondered briefly what sort of thing this Sorting was, and even more fleetingly if she should be worried. No, she found, she was to tired to care, and too shaken to be worried.

"Surely that can wait. Spiced pumpkin juice can only do so much for so long, Professor. She needs a warm bed and medical attention."

"It most certainly cannot wait." The elderly man – the headmaster, according to the matron woman – didn't seem upset at all, only cheerful. He wasn't going to change his mind, though. Even she could see that. "We'll move her up in the line, is all."

He pulled a rod out of his sleeve. _Wand_, Nym corrected herself. It's called a wand. It's not a birch for punishing students, it's a wand for doing magic. Somehow, that made it even scarier. He waved it in some complicated motion, and a heavy upholstered chair appeared, rotating once in the air before drifting to the floor. Nym didn't even have time to be amazed, because Poppy was lifting her up into it, blanket, mug and all.

The chair was very soft, with a thick velvet cover, so she sank deep into it. It was so nice. She just wanted to go to sleep. She closed her eyes to that end, but something seemed wrong, so she opened them again. It was very easy to find the source of her discomfort. The chair – her thick, heavy, comfortable chair – was floating through the hall. Faces she didn't know, hundreds of them, drifted through her vision, blurring together. There was curiosity on some of them, interest on others, and boredom on yet others. One face jumped out at her. Rick. He smiled reassuringly at her. She wanted to laugh. How much time had he spent telling her nothing was going to happen?

Her chair stopped on a dais, and settled lightly to the floor. The stern faced woman was waiting, a tattered old hat in her hand. It looked so old and worn amongst all the splendor, like a family heirloom that's kept for sentimental value, or an old grandfather who everyone loves but secretly wants gone so he no longer mars the beauty. She at once loved and pitied the hat. Which, she told herself, was ridiculous. It was a _hat_, after all.

The woman gave her the tiniest smile before settling the hat on her head. It had belonged to someone much larger than her, and it fell down over her eyes.

"What's this?" asked a little voice in her ear. It sounded old, like the hat, worn through and tired. "You aren't Burnaby Bott."

"No," Nym replied quietly. "I'm Nym Tonks."

"I can see _that_," it said testily. "What will they do next, I wonder? Throw me to the crowd, first come, first serve?" Nym started to reply, but the hat cut her off. "Never mind, I know what you're thinking. It's all here in your head, you know." Of course it is, Nym thought. It's my thoughts, isn't it? Where else would it be? The hat gave a quiet little chuckle. "Don't mind me, child. Well, I think I know where to put you, indeed I do." It yelled something. Nym didn't catch it as her ears rang and her vision went dark. What a time to faint, she thought.

She forced her eyes open. She hadn't fainted after all, just sort of blacked out. A table to one side was applauding and cheering. Her new House, she supposed. Her chair was floating down from the dais, controlled by the tiny man. She looked down at him, and her new House, and tried to smile, but stopped short. Her tie should have been yellow and black, like Rick's. That's what she'd wanted. To be with her one friend here. Her badge, likewise, was not like his. It had changed from the Hogwarts seal, yes, as her tie had changed from plain black. But they were both red and gold. She lowered her head and cried, hoping no one would see her tears.


	4. First Days

**First Days**

Chapter Four

Nym woke in a long, somewhat thin room, all made of stone. For a moment she panicked. Where were her pale yellow walls, her posters of her favorite sports figures, the warm rose light from the stained glass window that fell across her bed each morning? Her panic didn't last long, but was replaced by depression. She was at Hogwarts, and the one friend she had – the one person she even knew – was now completely apart from her. She wouldn't even get to see him.

She lay in the neatly turned down hospital bed, dressed in the standard pin-striped pajamas, and tried not to cry again. She'd expected Hogwarts to be bad, but not this bad. In her imaginings, she'd always had at least one friend to talk to.

The matron bustled over, smiling. She had a large stack of neatly folded garments in her arms. "I'm so glad you're awake, dear. How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you," Nym said as politely as she could. The woman had been very nice last night, but that didn't mean she wouldn't turn her into a frog this morning.

"That's good. Now here's your robes. Put them on, and I'll take you down to breakfast."

She placed Nym's traitorous robes on the chair next to the bed, and pulled the curtains around to hide her. Why couldn't you be yellow? Nym thought sourly at her tie and crest. She put them on and left the shelter of the curtains. She wouldn't let her disappointment destroy her first day at Hogwarts. Any more than it already was.

"Your Head of House, Professor Prewett, sent your things for the morning up. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to talk to him, child, or any of us. We're here to help." Her smile made Nym think that maybe, just maybe, if all the teachers were like Professor Prewett, Hogwarts might not be quite as bad as she thought. She handed Nym the black bag that Andromeda Tonks had spent so long picking out for her daughter.

After what seemed a long time, and many disorientating corridors, Madame Pomfrey ushered her charge into the Great Hall. It was lighter than it had been the night before, the conversation more animated, and it seemed all together more alive. She left Nym with the four other first year Gryffindor girls, who introduced themselves as 'Hope, Opal, Rose and Mary, the Lion Grlz', and broke into shrill giggles.

"Nym? You okay?" Nym spun in her seat, to find Rick looking down at her. Her relief at seeing him must have showed on her face, because he laughed in his kind way and said, "You didn't think you'd never see me again, just because we're in different Houses, did you?"

"Um…"

He smiled, as though to a child who's made a rather cute mistake, and slid into a spot next to her. On the side away from her still giggling dorm mates, she noted. "You might not see as much of me as otherwise, but I'm not just going to abandon you, Nym." She tried on a smile in return. "That's a girl. Now could someone pass the toast?"

According to the schedule that was passed around, Nym's very first class was Herbology. Which was, as far as she could tell from what Rick had said, something like Muggle gardening. How odd, she thought, as she made her way towards the greenhouses, whose glass sparkled in the sunlight. We never had gardening in regular school. Though, she allowed, this hardly qualified as a 'regular' school.

Rick had assured her that Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher and Head of Hufflepuff, was a very nice woman, and that she and Nym would get along well. He'd also made her promise about a dozen times to meet him after dinner and tell him all about her first day. She only hoped she'd be able to find her way back to the Great Hall for her meals. "You'll know your way around in no time," Rick had promised. She rather thought he had too much confidence in her.

Professor Sprout, a homely woman with fly away hair that was beginning to gray and soil all over her robes greeted them cheerfully. "Welcome to your first Herbology lesson, class. Let's get into it, shall we?" Rick was right, Nym thought as she paired up with a thin, timid Ravenclaw boy, who murmured that his name was Jerome and the only other person without a partner. She's a really good teacher.

Flying lessons began Wednesday, and they were what Nym dreaded most. In the course of the past few days, she'd tripped over the caretaker's cat four times, walked into two suits of armor, spilled a plate of food on an unlucky fellow Gryffindor and somehow set fire to three desks.

"I'm going to break something," she told Rick gloomily. They were sitting together at the Hufflepuff table, which they did often. Now Nym knew – and liked – several of the Hufflepuffs much better than she did her actual Housemates.

"You sound like my cousin Sybil. All she ever does is complain that bad things will happen. 'Inner Eye' my foot. She can't predict what we're having for dinner an hour before it's served." It was the first time Rick had mentioned his family, beyond the occasional vague reference to them, and also the first he'd said anything that wasn't positive.

"You don't get on with her?"

"No, no. We get along fine, I guess, except when she's doing her seer act. Just because we have a great-grandmother or something who was one, she thinks she can see the future. She just doesn't get it."

Nym nodded and didn't ask any more questions. Sybil was obviously a bit of a sore point for Rick, and she didn't want to upset him.

The Flying instructor, Madame Hooch, looked more like a bird than a human. She sat on her broom, surveying her students with her raptor's golden eyes, her cloak billowing out behind her like black wings. Even her nose, a thin, sharp affair with a slight hook, looked more like a beak than anyone's nose should. When her gloved hands gripped a hovering broomstick, Nym was reminded of nothing so much as a great black hawk settling onto a branch, its wicked talons biting into the soft wood. All fears of flying were forgotten in her terror of the teacher.

With a sharp, impersonal voice she instructed the students. Follow her direction, Nym put her hand out over her broom. "Up," she said as clearly as she could. Her voice trembled a bit anyway. She tried again. The broom seemed like it was considering lifting a little, but decided it was too much effort. Stupid piece of misbegotten wood, Nym thought angrily. All it has to do is lift itself off the ground, and it doesn't even have the decency to do that. She lost patience with it. "Just get up here, you damnable thing," she snapped, an expression which would have gotten her grounded at home. The broom seemed to realize she wasn't in the mood to put up with its foolishness, and jumped into her hand.

"Good, but do it without elaboration next time," Madame Hooch said when she passed. Nym blushed bright red, but she thought she saw the teacher give her a small smile, like she thought it was funny. Nym let out her breath in relief. She wasn't going to be in trouble.

When it was time for them to kick off, Nym forced herself to stop trembling. Getting the broom to jump into her hand was one thing, but getting off the ground was something else entirely. She tried to do as Madame Hooch said, but she hadn't pushed off hard enough. The broom came up a little, wavered, and dropped back to earth. Nym rolled off, muttering threats to broomsticks that didn't stay up.

Ignoring the others, who were doing a little drill that Madame Hooch had demonstrated, she kicked off again. The broom moved along, a little slowly, but it stayed in the air. Then it began to wobble, and Nym again found herself falling and rolling across the smooth green of the school lawn.

Third time's the charm, Nym thought, as she kicked off again. And for a while, it seemed it was. The broomstick soared, a good ten feet from the ground, responding as Madame Hooch had said it would, turning and dipping. Until Madame Hooch blew her whistle for them to come down. She pointed the broom slightly down, intending to come in at a shallow angle for a slow, easy landing. The broom had other ideas, and pointed itself almost directly at the ground. She heard the teacher yelling at her to pull up, pull up girl. She tried, but the broom gave a little shiver and kept going. Nym tumbled off, hitting the ground hard and driving all the air out of her lungs.

She lay on the grass, gasping. The broom had been working just fine. Why had it stopped, suddenly? Had she done something wrong? She didn't think so. She was sure she'd done exactly what Madame Hooch had said.

"Are you alright?" Madame Hooch was standing over her, her eagle eyes looking a bit more human because of the concern that filled them. Nym gasped and tried to answer, but her lungs refused to work. She settled for nodding. "That's something at least. No one else has been."

"Professor?" Nym asked weakly. What did she mean, no one else had been. They were all over there, maybe twenty feet away, talking among themselves.

"The brooms keep failing, Miss Tonks. They've already sent three students to the hospital wing, and not one of their brooms survived." She sighed. "I've asked the Headmaster for brooms, but we just don't have the funds. I can only be grateful no one's been seriously injured." She helped Nym to her feet. A few feet behind her were the remains of her broom, smashed now almost beyond recognition. "We can't even find out what's wrong with them." This last piece seemed the most distressing to Madame Hooch, and Nym had to agree. If you couldn't tell what was wrong, then you couldn't fix it, and there was no way to tell how many students would be injured. Suddenly, flying seemed terribly dangerous. Just not for the reasons she'd thought before.


	5. Flying Lessons

**Flying Lessons**

Chapter Five

"And then…" Nym stopped listening and shoved her head under her pillow. Did they ever shut up? It was always 'she did this' or 'he did that' or 'and then this so totally happened'. Never was there any hint of any sort of intelligence. Unless you thought a high IQ was needed to decided whether you looked better in blue or pink.

The 'Lion Grlz' were, unfortunately, Nym's only company in her House. She only knew the boys slightly, and she was still too shy to approach anyone in a higher year. Rick was a good friend, but she didn't see him all that often. Sure, they often met in the library after dinner, but he had his own House.

They started giggling again. What could possibly be so funny as to warrant the high, bubbly shrieks of laughter? Whatever it might be, it wouldn't appeal to her, even if they let her in on the joke. They were the 'Lion Grlz', four girls with four-letter names, who all had the same tastes and personalities. Together, they formed a tight little circle that no one, most especially one Nym Tonks, could break.

She groaned and left the dormitory. She didn't have anything to do, so she might as well go down to the Common Room. Students were mingling when she came down the stairs, chatting or doing homework or playing wizard chess. She'd never played that, though she'd watched parts of games. She could play muggle chess, but the violence of this version stopped her focusing on the plays.

One of the boys caught sight of her and made his way over. What could he possibly want, she wondered? She didn't know him, and he wasn't in any of her classes. She knew him by sight, as she did many of her Housemates, though she didn't know his name. She was pretty sure he was second year, though.

"You're Nym Tonks, right?" Well, he seemed to know her, anyway. Had she told him her name? She couldn't remember, but she didn't think so. Perhaps he knew her from her… memorable Sorting. Maybe that was it. She nodded, a little unsure how to talk to him.

He gave her an envelope, with an encouraging smile. "I'm not gonna eat you. Rick asked me to give this to you."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"No problem." Someone called him. He nodded to her, and left. She wandered over to a window and ripped it open.

Hey Nym. Heard about your flying lesson. Hope you're okay, and won't take it wrong if I ask this. One of my friends plays quidditch, and has helped me tons with my flying. If you want, you can tag along. We'll have you flying like a bird in no time. Anyway, if you want to come we'll be on the quidditch pitch at six, and see you there. It's not a big deal if you don't though, so don't feel like you have to. See you around, Rick.

Had everyone heard about her disastrous flying? It was nice of Rick to invite her, but she didn't want to fly any more. Not if it ended like that. She'd tell Rick that the next time she saw him. Flying just wasn't for her. It was scary, and nerve wracking, and… exhilarating. She remembered the incredible feeling of flying over the grass, and Madame Hooch's promises to the students that this was just the beginning. Some day they'd be able to fly like birds. She tried to imagine what that would be like, but couldn't. It was too incredible. And Rick had offered to teach her. She looked back at the note in her hand, written on thick cream parchment by a quill, rather than ballpoint pen on paper as she was used to. How could she have considered refusing? She'd go, and she'd learn, and maybe someday she'd even get to play quidditch for Gryffindor.

Half an hour later, after eating a quick supper in the Great Hall, Nym walked out onto the quidditch pitch. It dominated one side of the grounds, with the tall stands and gently sloping lawn. She'd used to stare at it during lessons, wondering what it would be like to play football on such a perfect field. Until she'd learned what it was really for. Until her flying lesson, two days before. She'd been careful to avoid looking at it since. It reminded her of flying, and her failure at it.

Rick and another boy were waiting for her. They had three brooms, two of which were the same as what Nym had ridden during that horrible lesson. The other was newer, sleeker, and even to Nym's inexperienced eye obviously much better.

"Hey Nym. Knew you'd come," Rick greeted her.

The other boy laughed. "Maybe you did, I didn't." Nym bristled, not liking his implications. "You gave the note to Jimmy. What're the chances he didn't remember until ten minutes ago?"

"He gave it to me half an hour ago," Nym said, trying to keep hostility out of her voice.

"Did he really? Then his memory's improved beyond measure." He stopped chuckling to himself. "Zack Smith. And you'd be Nym, I take it." She nodded. "Fell off your broom, did you?"

Nym bristled. She hadn't fallen off her broom, it had thrown her, and she told him so. Suddenly, Zack was very serious. "Are you sure? Are you positive that's what happened?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

Zack looked around, as though making sure no one was listening in. "It's been happening a lot. Happened to my own little sister. Half a dozen first years have been thrown like that."

"Madame Hooch said it was because the brooms were old," Nym offered.

"I suppose you could say that. The spells are probably getting weaker, but that wouldn't make it plow first years into the ground. No, I'd say," and here he glanced around again and lowered his voice, "someone's been tampering with them."

"But why?" Zack suddenly didn't seem so big and threatening. She'd just misread him. Nym silently resolved never to do that again.

"I don't know," Rick answered.

Zack gave him a look that said 'now there's a surprise, be quiet why don't you?'. "It's hard to be sure, but we can guess. See, it's only first year muggle-borns being thrown. And none of them have been Slytherin."

"There aren't any muggle-borns in Slytherin," Rick said. "There aren't even half-bloods."

"Shows what you know. Richard Flint is muggle born, and Jennifer Parker is a half-blood." Nym had never heard of either of those people, but Rick seemed to have, or perhaps he just pretended to.

"Maybe," Nym said, "but I'm not a muggle-born. I'm half-blood."

"Are you really? Well, perhaps that was enough to qualify you. Or maybe it was bad luck. Anyway, it won't happen now, so do you want to start flying?" Zack obviously thought they'd been talking long enough.

Nym had been completely unable to find something to compare the feeling of flying to during her first lesson. Flying with Zack, who played Beater for the Ravenclaw team, beggared even that. They soared around the pitch, faster than Nym could have imagined. By the time it was getting dark, Nym could feel the improvement in her flying, even if she was no where near as good as either of the boys. Zack was a good teacher, and could spend more time coaching her than Madame Hooch had been able to, having had nineteen other students to pay attention to. Nym was sure that, with lots of practice and Zack's help, she'd be able to make the Gryffindor team next year. Even if she didn't, she'd keep flying, because it was that incredible.

Time seemed to slip away. Before Nym really understood what had been going on, a month had slipped by. She found ways to keep herself busy, between attending classes, working on her homework, and flying with Zack. Rick joined them often, but he freely confessed that he wasn't much of a flier.

"What're you talking about?" Nym demanded one time he said this. "You're really good." Well, not really good, but pretty good, she amended silently. As she'd improved, she'd begun to see the faults in her own flying, and Rick's. She didn't even look at Zack's flying; she'd tried, and she'd never found anything wrong with it.

"Nym," Rick had said with a laugh, "you're almost as good as I am, and you know it. You've been flying, how long, a month? I've been flying almost all my life." As far as he was concerned, that settled it, and Nym couldn't think of any answer. So she kept her mouth shut when Rick opted not to fly with them.

Halloween was a week away when Nym and Zack were flying. They'd left the quidditch pitch, and were flying over the Forbidden Forest. Zack had always been very careful when they flew over the Forest, flying closer to Nym and keeping to the edges. He hadn't even let her leave the pitch for weeks, saying he wanted to make sure she could take care of herself before he would let her risk it.

They were headed down to land when Nym felt her broom seize up. It was a feeling she'd know anywhere. It was just like that first flying lesson, except this time she was much, much higher. She hurtled toward the ground, desperately holding on. If she could wait until the last second to jump, she might be able to avoid getting hurt.

For the most part, it worked. She leapt clear a few feet from the ground, rolling over and over when she hit. It was like the first time, rolling over and over, with one important difference; her first impact was accompanied by a sharp crack. She screamed, tears coursing down her face as the wind, and her scream, were knocked out of her.

She heard people yelling, and several someones came running from different directions, converging on her. Someone was saying her name urgently. "Nym. Nym, are you okay? Nym?"

"Zack?" she muttered. He helped her sit up, and face the other person. A boy who she'd seen once or twice in the Common Room, knelt in front of her.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked. Nym couldn't answer, only cradled her arm.

Two more boys came up, as old as the other two. Nym had seen them several times in the Common Room, from a distance. They were always the center of attention. Both had black hair and strong faces, and from the look of them they could be brothers. Through the pain, or perhaps because of it, Nym thought they had an unusual resemblance to her mother.

"How is she?" one of them asked.

"I think the arm's broken," the boy kneeling in front of her said, turning to face them. His hair looked oddly gray, like he was much older than sixteen or seventeen.

"We'll have to take her to Madame Pomfrey." At first, Nym thought the speaker might be one of the black haired boys, but then she realized there was a fourth boy, hiding behind them. He was small, and plain, and pudgy, with a distinctly rat-like face. She wasn't sure if she had seen him before, but she thought she might have.

"Don't be an idiot, Wormtail. And admit we weren't in detention?" said the black haired boy. She couldn't tell if it was the one who had spoken before or not. Their voices, like their looks, were very similar.

"But if her arm is broken…"

"Stow it, Wormtail," snapped one of the black haired boys. He knelt beside the boy with graying hair. "Can you fix it, Moony?"

"I might be able to. Evans would be better at it, of course."

"But she's not going to find out." This from the black-haired boy still standing and glaring at Wormtail. "She'd never forgive me for skipping detention. So Moony?"

"Give me a minute." The boy pulled out his wand and ran it up and down her arm, frowning and muttering to himself. Then he tapped her arm, right at the pain epicenter. Nym cried out, and Zack looked at her with concern. Moony looked sheepish, "As I said, Lily would have done it better. But it's healed, good as new. How's it feel, young one?"

"Better," Nym admitted, moving her arm, testing the healing.

"Would you like to meet the culprit?" Offered the kneeling black-haired boy.

"The who?"

"The one who's been jinxing the brooms."

"I thought we were doing that," piped up Wormtail.

"Wormtail, you idiot, think a minute. Why would we hurt first years? And, in case you couldn't tell, that was a stunning spell Prongs did just there, not a jinx. The villain is unconscious under the bleachers over there. Be a pal and drag the scum out, would you?" The rat-faced boy trotted off to do as he was told.

"What's your name?" Moony asked.

"Nym Tonks," Nym said. Compared to these boys' names, it wasn't really all that odd. Who would call their child 'Wormtail', after all?

"Tonks," repeated the kneeling black haired boy. "I know that name from somewhere."

"A relative?" Moony suggested.

"Of course." A light seemed to go on in the boy's eyes. "Dear Andromeda. Married that muggle-born Tonks." Before Nym could protest that her father was a muggle, not a muggle-born, Wormtail came back, dragging a limp form, which he dropped with mixed disgust and pride in front of his companions, like a dog bringing back a catch to his master.

The boy called Prongs turned it over with his toe. "Well what do you know. Padfoot, old boy, looks like today's a day for family reunions."

The boy looked rather like the one called Padfoot, though he wasn't as handsome and he didn't have that certain something which suggested to Nym a good deal of courage and power. Instead, he was like a shrunken, pitiful copy made by someone who couldn't quite remember what the original looked like.

"Regulus. I might have known," said Padfoot with obvious disgust. "Well, we'll deal with him later."

Prongs turned to Zack. "It's Smith, isn't it?" Zack nodded. "Well, you'd best be off. We'll take care of the kid. And not a word of this to anyone, understood?" Zack nodded and took off. What could make him obey like that, Nym wondered.

Padfoot seemed to think it was time for introductions. "This here," he indicated Moony, "is our prefect, Remus Lupin."

"It's not like it's a title or anything," snapped Moony. "She doesn't need to know that."

Padfoot shrugged and ignored him. "That over there is Peter Pettigrew." He jerked his head towards Wormtail. Nym thought his nickname fitted him much better. "Our golden boy, Head Boy and quidditch captain James Potter. And of course my humble but brilliant and dashing self, Sirius Black."

"And modest, of course," Lupin added.

"My mum mentioned you."

"Did she now. And what did she say?"

"That you were her cousin and that you might be able to help if I got in trouble." Nym looked at Sirius in awe. "And I guess you did."

Prongs started laughing. "Sirius get you out of trouble? He'd throw you into it head first."

Sirius pretended to be offended. "I would never do that. She's family."

"_That's _family," Prongs reminded him, kicking the still prone for of Regulus.

"If you insist on being _accurate_."

"What should I do with him?" piped up Wormtail.

"You aren't going to do anything," Lupin said firmly. "You'll only screw it up."

"But…"

"We'll take care of him. You take Nym back to the Common Room."

"But…"

"Stop arguing, Wormtail," put in Prongs. Wormtail nodded sullenly. As he escorted Nym back to the Common Room, she looked behind her. Sirius, James and Remus were walking towards the forest, the prone form of Regulus dragging magically behind in the dust. Sirius was cool, and popular, and a really good wizard. He was everything she'd dreamed and more.


	6. Halloween

**Halloween**

Chapter Six

T'was the night before Christmas, thought Nym as she walked through the decorated corridors towards Potions. The halls were festively decorated, and there was a general buzz through the castle. Not, of course, that it was Christmas. That was months away yet. Today was the day before Halloween, and Potions was her last class.

Despite the festive air and jovial spirit, Nym wasn't looking forward to Potions. Oh, it was an alright class to be sure, and Professor Tofty was interesting, old as he was. All in all it was a good class. The problem was, Nym was terrible at it.

She would follow the directions exactly, do everything just right, and then came the inevitable mistake. She'd knock over a cauldron or bump the scales or drop a vial. Professor Tofty would shake his head and smile a little sadly whenever this happened, which was almost every lesson. Today wasn't going to be any different. She could feel it.

"I thought we'd do something a little different today," Professor Tofty said. Well, Nym thought, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all. "In preparation for the celebration tomorrow, what say we make some fireworks?" There were several cheers, and some that were a little uncertain. So far they'd made potions to turn things blue, and to heal blisters, and similar small workings. Fireworks were big and dramatic. How complicated they must be.

"Of course," the professor chuckled to himself, "our wizard crackers are very complicated, and involve many advanced charms as well as the correct potions. So," he clapped his hands, and the long tables were suddenly cluttered with ingredients, "we'll be using some muggle techniques. The basic recipe is on the board, of course."

While many of the students began to work, cautiously working with these strange, non-magical ingredients that were supposed to become magical, Nym copied down the formula. It was the sort of thing you might want another time.

As she finished, Professor Tofty returned to his lectern. "Why don't we make this more interesting? We'll have a competition, to be judged by the teachers tomorrow night?" Hearty approval greeted his suggestion. Around the dungeon, students set to work feverishly, adding more and more volatile ingredients. Over the next hour, several cauldrons exploded magnificently, much to the chagrin of their users.

Nym packed her powder into the provided cardboard tubes with a great sense of satisfaction. Her cauldron hadn't exploded once, but she'd lit a little of it on the counter with her wand and been greeted with exactly the effect she'd hoped. Well, very close. It was still missing something.

On impulse, she pulled out her potion ingredients. Her mother, mindful of Nym's clumsiness, had packed them in rubber containers rather than the typical glass ones. Here was what she wanted; the active ingredient in the colour-changing potion. Professor Tofty had said it was very volatile. A few students hadn't taken him seriously, or had slipped up, and the resulting explosions had caused them to evacuate the dungeon. A few drops to each of the cylinders, and then she capped each one. She paused at the last one, the final one in the set. Surely it should be something special.

She added a pinch of this, a little of that, but still it didn't seem right. None of the ingredients were all that exciting.

Something on the table caught her eye. A little black globe, lying in the middle of what looked to be clippings of short, red hair. She added them, and closed the firecracker with a sense of achievement. Who knew what the last two were, but surely they'd add something. Something interesting. They'd probably been left behind by the fifth years who had had Potions the period before, and they were always doing something interesting.

It was with only the slightest regret that Nym tucked in to the Halloween feast. She missed trick or treating, as she'd done for several years past. The celebrations at Hogwarts were incredible, but there was something to be said for the free candy. Besides which, she missed Zack. She'd spent the day with Rick, Jerome and Mandy Smith, Zack's little sister, and they'd had a great time down by the lake. But all day she'd caught herself glancing around, trying to spot Zack's sun-bleached hair, burned gold from long hours flying.

All right, she thought glumly, I admit it. I miss him. She didn't like to admit it, even to herself. The idea that she might need anyone didn't sit well with her. She'd manage on her own, or she'd die trying. But what was there to manage here, with or without him? It wasn't like she needed him to get through the day, she just liked to have him around. Which was sentimental fluff, like all that stuff her dorm mates talked about after they'd all gone to bed at night.

Speaking of that unhappy reality… there were her dorm mates, a little ways down the table, dressed up as best they could for the feast. Even here she could hear their unceasing conversation. At least now they weren't talking to her. Or about her. It amounted to about the same thing, really.

Earlier, she'd been getting ready to go down to the feast. If you could count brushing parchment dust off your robes and digging through your trunk for the tie you'd lost sometime earlier in the week as 'getting ready'.

"Oh Nymphadora," Rose had sighed, "whatever are we going to do with you?"

Nym bristled. "Why should you do anything with me?"

"Your robes," Hope said in a voice of long suffering.

Nym had looked down at her robes defensively. What was wrong with them? They were what she wore every day, and she said as much.

"That's just it," Opal had put in. "They're getting old."

"I've only had them two months, they're not old," Nym had snapped, but her words were drowned out by Mary.

"And is that a burn?" Nym covered the offending sleeve with her hand. So there had been unexpected complications to playing with the firecrackers yesterday. So what?

"Perhaps we could do something with your hair?" Opal had suggested. Though she seemed to be talking to Nym, Nym got the impression that the question was really directed at the other three girls.

Nym had thrown her arms over her head and raced from the room, completely forgetting her tie. Sirius had caught her in the Common Room, grabbing the collar of her robes and pulling her up short.

"No running in the corridors," Prongs had said with mock severity.

"I'm not in the corridor."

"She's got you there," Sirius had said, as if he were a judge weighing the situation. "I suppose you'll have to let her go."

"No Sirius," a girl had said, appearing at Prongs's elbow. "_You'll _have to let her go." She'd smiled a little at her joke, and James had chuckled. Sirius had just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Nym, let's leave the incredible prats to it." He'd started to lead her away, still holding her collar, when the girl stopped him short.

"Sirius Black, let her go this instant or I'll report you."

Prongs wasn't about to be left out. "I'll give you prat." His hand twitched toward his wand, as his mouth curled in a smile. Some sort of long standing joke, Nym supposed. There were no jokes in the girl, though.

"Well?" she demanded. "What are you waiting for? Let her go."

Sirius had just smirked at her. "Give it up, Evans. What're the chances of me listening to you? I mean, really." He'd led Nym away to where Lupin was reading a book.

"James Potter," Nym could hear the girl chastising Prongs, "why do you never help?"

Evans still hadn't forgiven Prongs and Sirius when Nym headed down to the banquet with them. She talked in a falsely cheerful voice to Nym, occasionally shooting dark looks at the two boys, and occasionally Lupin and Wormtail as well. Just for variety, Nym figured, since neither of them had done anything wrong. Well, maybe Wormtail's insistence on following Sirius's lead and scorning Evans could be seen as an offence, but Lupin had done nothing to deserve the angry glares.

As a result, Nym spent most of the banquet in silence, talking only occasionally when directly addressed by Lupin or Sirius. She still wasn't sure about Prongs, and Wormtail was to busy copying him to pay Nym any mind. Perhaps Evans was nice enough, but the state of her temper showed through even when she was talking to Nym. Once she forgot herself completely.

"I suppose you're following their lead, aren't you? Your robes are burned, your collar's crooked and _you don't have a tie_."

"Give her a break," Lupin cut in, sparing Nym the need to answer. "It's not a big deal."

That didn't go over well with Evans. "You're a _prefect_, Lupin. You're supposed to be helping me enforce these rules."

"They're stupid rules," Nym said, helping herself to a piece of pumpkin pie. Evans ignored Nym except to tell her to eat her vegetables before she started on dessert.

All in all, it was a relief to make her way out to the grounds to watch the fireworks. The air had the littlest nip in it, but didn't seem to forecast rain. There were no clouds either, so the students cheerfully spread out on the gently sloping lawn to watch the display.

Nym lay down in the grass near the lake edge. The nearest group of students was several yards away. All the chatter that had filled her ears for the past hour and a half faded to a buzz. She knew Rick would probably be looking for her, but right now she didn't really care. It was nice to be alone.

Someone settled into the grass beside her. She couldn't tell who it was because they'd positioned themselves in a shadowy area. She tensed, wondering who they were and what they could want. Her mother's warning about wizards, unthought-of these past months, came back to her vividly. "Hey Nym."

"Zack," she smiled in relief. "I thought you were someone else."

"Like?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Some evil Dark wizard come to kill me, I guess."

He laughed. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Where were you all day?"

"Oh right," he muttered. "I meant to tell you. Third years can go to Hogsmeade sometimes."

"So that's were you were."

"Yeah. I brought you all some candy back from Honeydukes, 'cause I know it'll be a long time before you get to go." He handed her a little package. "I already gave Rick and Mandy theirs."

"Thanks," Nym said, touched in spite of herself that he would remember her when he was off having fun with kids his own age.

The fireworks started then, saving her the need to say anything further. Some worked as they were supposed to, some didn't. Some worked, but certainly not the way they were meant to. Several times there were screams as burning debris rained down amongst the students, until one of the teachers created an invisible shield. Nym's fireworks blew beautifully, creating brightly colored flowers in the sky. The last one created a showed of gold that flew directly for the students, who shrieked as the sparks avoided the barrier and settled around watches and pin to glow. What, Nym wondered, could I have possibly put in there?

She hadn't won, she knew. Jessica Mugskin of Ravenclaw had, easily. Hers were nearly impressive enough to be wizard crackers. When Professor Tofty stood up to announce the winner, Nym stopped watching. She'd wanted to see the fireworks. The award held no interest for her.

Something in the lake caught her eye. There was a lump of some sort, rising about the surface. Like a round rock, except that it hadn't been there earlier. Where she turned a little to get a better look it slipped beneath the surface with the faintest sound. Zack hadn't seen anything, so she decided not to tell him. Some things were a little too weird, even in the wizarding world.


	7. Winter at Hogwarts

**Winter at Hogwarts**

Chapter Seven

The castle seemed to echo strangely around Nym as she walked through the corridors. Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't, just the littlest bit, sentient. At times like this it certainly seemed it. The thick stone walls cried out inaudibly, trying to fill the void that the departing students had left.

Perhaps that was all in her mind, which tried vainly to adjust to this new, empty Hogwarts. The few occupants rattled through the vast building, pretending Christmas cheer. While the teachers had put forth their best to make the castle seem warm and inviting and all together Christmas-y, it all seemed a bit of a let down.

I shouldn't be here, Nym thought. I should be home, with my Mum and Dad, visiting my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, with big turkey dinners around too-small tables and trees with handmade ornaments from when I was four. The turkey dinners here were even bigger than home, but the table seemed too vast even for that much food. She almost wished for her Uncle Rod to show up, bearing his latest invented dish, which as often as not was inedible. At least that was familiar.

She wouldn't have any of those things for Christmas this year. A week before everyone left a letter had arrived via a very ruffled owl from her mother, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was not, under any circumstances, to come home for Christmas and that, if she did, she would be promptly disowned. If she wanted to see some of her family for Christmas, the letter added, she was more than welcome to visit one of her aunts, Bellatrix or Narcissa. Nym had thrown the letter in the fire in a fit of temper and had resolved not to write to her mother until she received an apology fully a foot long or more, and even that had better be very sincere.

"Dwarfish tinsel," she said as she approached the portrait of the over-large lady in the vast pink dress that guarded the door to the Common Room. At least she had the Gryffindor Tower to herself. The whole flippin' tower. She was the only Gryffindor left. The portrait swung open without a word. The lady had been caught up in the pervading gloom, and spent most of her time hiding in the back of the picture.

Nym caught sight of herself in the floor length mirror on one of the walls. She was small, and scrawny, and rather too pale. Her black hair hung straight down her back, completely uninteresting. Her nose, thin and straight, seemed large and beak-ish when she recalled the cutely upturned shnoz's of her dorm mates. Staring at the sorry sight she made in her slightly too large robes, she was seized by the desire to be someone else.

She scrunched up her face in concentration. Her mother had always said she shouldn't do that, because proper young ladies didn't, but it seemed to make changing easier. First she changed her nose to a very small, upturned affair, like Hope's, then added color to her cheeks so they were warm like Rose's. Looking at herself, she decided that was a little too warm, so took a little of the color out, but on impulse added freckles like Opal's. Looking at herself, she was amazed to see the resemblance she now bore to Andromeda. Except the nose. No one on her mother's side had a nose like that, at least so Andromeda said. The only major difference was the hair. Andromeda's was light blond, and very stylish.

With an effort, she turned her hair golden, and longer, so it curled in ringlets half way down her back. She took a step back to look at herself. The girl who looked back at her wasn't smiling the way she had been when Nym had envisioned her. In fact, she looked a little unhappy. She was a very pretty girl, like a porcelain doll. Too much like porcelain, Nym realized slowly. Only the eyes were really alive or had any expression. The rest of the face just looked defeated and upset.

This isn't me, Nym thought. I may be small and puny and pale but at least I'm me and not her. She turned away from the mirror, unable to look at herself any more but unwilling to change back. It was all very well to say she was better off one way than another right now. The grass was always greener, and all that.

She bit back a cry and fled the Common Room as a tall figure uncurled itself from within one of the thick armchairs. No one was supposed to have seen her. No one was even supposed to be here.

Long thin fingers brushed her cheek as they reached out and grabbed the back of her collar. They were gray, as if their owner was very old or had been inside too long. She struggled vainly against the hold, but her captor was much bigger than she was and they had no intention of letting her go.

"I would scarcely have credited that if I hadn't seen it myself," said a voice pleasantly behind her. It was a little hoarse, to be sure, like its owner was just getting over a bad cold, but it didn't sound threatening. She turned slowly and looked up, startled, at Lupin. He smiled at her. "If I let you go, do you promise not to run?" She nodded, and he released his hold on her collar.

She straightened her robes to give herself time to think. What was he doing here? Why hadn't he gone home for the holidays, like everyone else? Even if he couldn't go to his own house, she'd heard Prongs extend an invitation to all his friends to come stay with him. "Why aren't you at home?" she asked before she could think of a more tactful way to satisfy her curiosity.

"It was inconvenient for my parents," Lupin said with a shrug. "Or do you really mean, what am I doing here?" Nym opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't. What was there to say? "I've been sick, so I haven't been in the dormitory, in case you were wondering." She only nodded.

Lupin looked at her, studying her. She felt color creep into her cheeks under his gaze. It was he who broke the silence first. "What say we go to Hogsmeade for while."

"I'm not allowed," Nym muttered. She'd love to go to Hogsmeade. Zack had kept talking about it, although he'd stopped every time he caught himself. It sounded absolutely incredible. But only third years and up were allowed to go, and then only on certain days.

"Neither am I," Lupin pointed out. "That hasn't stopped me yet."

It sounded tempting. Surely he'd done it loads of times before. "But what if I get caught? I mean, you're a prefect. I'm just a… a first year nobody."

Lupin laughed at that, a warm chuckle that had something of Sirius's barking laugh in it. He turned her around by the shoulders. Looking back at her from the mirror was the little porcelain girl, standing in front of a tall boy who looked a very old seventeen. His face was equally slim, though far more haggard than hers, and his hair was a bit more brown, but the few strands of gray made it seem lighter. They could have been related, almost.

"What are we waiting for?" Nym asked, feeling suddenly reckless. She'd been stuck in the castle for far too long. The long awaited trip home had never happened, and she felt that she'd explode if she didn't do something.

"Knew you'd see it my way." He raised his wand. "Accio." Matching black school cloaks flew down the dormitory stair cases. Nym was pleased to note that Lupin's was as torn as hers, as though he too flew into trees on a regular basis. Well, she doubted he did, but he probably did something similar. Just not as clumsy.

He led her out into the hallway, checking both ways down the corridor before continuing. "I wouldn't be this careful if it was just me," he admitted, after the third or fourth time he'd done this where corridors crossed, "but I'd get in a lot less trouble if it was just me who got caught."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Nym suggested. Her reckless feelings had long since evaporated, and now all she felt was a little nervous.

Lupin gave her a grin. However nervous she might be, his reckless enthusiasm more than made up for it. It was a grin like the one she'd seen Prongs and Sirius share, when they thought no one was watching. Normally about the same time, something odd and usually chaotic would happen. "Course it's a good idea." He kept walking, adjusting his longer strides so she could keep up without too much trouble.

He stopped suddenly in front of a statue. Nym had only been this way once, when she was lost, but she remembered the statue with no trouble. It would have been harder to forget, it's subject was so hideous. The artist had obviously tried to portray the witch in the best light, but she was still a one-eyed, hunchbacked old crone with too few teeth and too many… somethings on her face. Nym couldn't decide if they were warts or boils or zits or some hideous magical ailment. The witch leered at her, daring her to come nearer to her disfigured self.

Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the statue, muttering something. A hole promptly opened in the statue, the stone giving the smallest whisper as it moved, like an old woman's cackle. "Come on," Lupin said cheerfully as he led her into the darkness.

It didn't stay dark long, because even before the stone had sealed itself up Nym had her wand out, lighting the narrow passage. Lupin added light from his own wand, so the twisting stone passage was brightly lit up to where it curved and the way was lost from sight. "It's a bit of a walk, I'm afraid," Lupin said. "There are shorter passages, but they're more difficult to get in and out of."

"How so?" Nym asked, curious. She wasn't supposed to go to Hogsmeade, but if she could use passages like this one there was nothing to stop her. It wasn't as if she'd be recognized. She'd need a new name, though, she realized, to go with her new look. Couldn't have people connecting Nym-the-blond with Nym-with-black-hair.

"Some of them come out where there's lots of people. A few of them the caretaker watches, though he only knows about two of them." He shrugged. "Some are just really out of the way."

"And they all go to Hogsmeade?"

"Most of them. Some go into the middle of the Forest, and others just stop. Probably meant to go somewhere, just didn't get finished."

They came out in a store room. Nym balked as they entered, seeing a rotund, balding little man rummaging among the crates, but Lupin stepped out boldly. "Hello sir," he said respectfully. The little man spun and dropped a crate in surprise.

"Lupin, my boy," he gasped. "Gave me quite a turn, you did. Shouldn't sneak up on people like that." But he was smiling by the end of his speech, which to Nym suggested he'd said it several times before. "And who's your little friend?"

"Minetta Nigellus," Lupin supplied without hesitating. He, like Sirius, was an excellent liar. Prongs seemed too noble to lie convincingly – although perhaps that just helped him get away with it. Wormtail was certainly too stupid. "A relative of Sirius's. Poor girl," he shook his head in sympathy. "Parents off touring the world. Left her at Hogwarts for the whole year."

"Ah well," said the man, nodding sagely, "perhaps it's all for the best. Troubled times like these, I know I feel better for being near to Hogwarts. But really, lad," he added, changing subjects suddenly, "the two of you shouldn't be here. I know for a fact that the next weekend isn't until January, so I do."

"We just came for the Christmas spirit," Lupin said with a wink to Nym as he beckoned her forward and up the some stairs on the other side of the cellar. "Nice chap, Mr. Honeyduke," he commented once they were out in the snow covered street. "Stopped kicking up a fuss when we appear in his cellar a long time ago. His wife, poor Mrs. Honeyduke, still panics every time we show up when it's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Is that often?" Lupin just grinned.

They walked through the village, Nym gawking openly. The scene was beautiful, something off a greeting card, with fresh white snow covering the ground thinly, and piled on the roofs and beside the doors. Holly and pine garlands festooned the windows, set with twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. Here, unlike Hogwarts, the spirit of Christmas seemed alive and well, as opposed to a little sickly.

Lupin opened the door to a cheery little building, with The Three Broomsticks written over the door in flowing letters. Nym entered an almost solid wave of heat, pulling her cloak back as she did. It was warm outside, for the season, but it was still very cold.

A rosy cheeked woman with holly around her hat greeted them with a smile. "Remus, how good to see you again."

"Merry Christmas, Rosmerta," Lupin answered. "Two butterbeers, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Almost before they were settled at a table beside an enormous Christmas tree she was back, with two frothing tankard, still smiling rosily. "The others well?"

"As ever," Lupin replied, taking a drink from his butterbeer. Nym tried hers tentatively, unsure of what to expect. The taste that greeted her was warm and delicious, getting rid of the last remnants of the outdoor cold which had settled into her fingers. "They send their seasons greetings."

Rosmerta beamed at him. "And who's your darling friend?"

"Ah, terribly sorry, went right out of my head." Lupin's grin at Nym told her he'd done no such thing, and he'd only been waiting for her to ask. "This is Minetta Nigellus, one of Sirius's relatives. Min, this is Madame Rosmerta." Nym murmured hello shyly. Rosmerta seemed very nice, and she seemed very fond of Lupin, but Nym was still a little afraid that someone would figure out who she really was, and drag her back up to the castle for more detentions than she could serve in a lifetime. But Rosmerta just smiled even more and said how delighted she was to meet her, and that she was welcome any time.

Rosmerta bustled away to see to the other customers. Lupin leaned back in her chair, relaxing in what was obviously a familiar setting. "See? No problems whatsoever."

"What if someone know the Nigelluses?" Nym asked, worriedly. "Wouldn't they know there wasn't a girl my age."

"I take it you don't associate much with your extended family," Lupin said.

Wondering how this was in any way relevant, Nym shook her head. "They're off touring the world," Lupin said. "And as everyone knows, they're old, upstanding pure bloods, related to Sirius. It seemed to fit."

"Sirius is a pure blood? But I thought… he seemed so different from those stuck up kids in Slytherin." She felt like he'd just shoved a knife in her stomach and twisted it around. Her cousin, her wonderful cousin, one of those horrid pure bloods. Lupin had just marred what she knew as the closest thing to the perfect family.

Lupin seemed reflective. "Do you remember the day we met?" he asked.

"I'd just broken my arm, falling off my broom," Nym said. She didn't want to remember that. She had looked like a clumsy oaf in front of Sirius and his friends.

"Being thrown off your broom," Lupin corrected gently, "by a spell Regulus put on it. Do you remember him?" Nym nodded, slightly. She didn't really remember him. He'd just been an unconscious heap that Sirius had dragged off before she got a really good look. "He's Sirius's little brother. As far as their parents are concerned, he's also the better brother." He shook his head, a little sadly. "Sirius never saw eye to eye with his parents. They're very much the pure bloods. All the Blacks are. They disown any of their number that don't agree. The blood traitors." He put a special emphasis on the last phrase. Not as if he didn't like blood traitors, but as if he found it a dirty, disgusting term.

"Blood traitors?" Nym asked hesitantly.

"Like Sirius, and your mother."

Nym fought down the feeling of nausea. She'd always known her mother was on the outs with the rest of her family. But disowned, cast out… for what? For marrying her father, a muggle? Or had that come later? "What did they do?" she asked. Suddenly she had to know. What sort of family was she part of? She couldn't be like those awful kids in Slytherin, who strutted around as if they owned the place, glaring at anyone who wasn't magical through and through.

"Sirius just didn't get on with his parents. He left home… oh, about two years ago, now. Your mother, you must know, married a muggle-born. As bad as a muggle, as far as her family was concerned."

"My father," Nym said, "is a muggle."

"Ted Tonks? He isn't," Lupin said indignantly. "He went to Hogwarts with your mum."

"But mum always said…" Why did he have to break her world into these little pieces that made no sense? Her life might not be ideal, but it was hers, and it made some sort of sense. Now it didn't. Unless Lupin was lying. But why would he? Everything he said made sense. She'd just been too blind to see it before. "Why would my mum say he wasn't?" she asked miserably.

"Drink up," Lupin said, nudging her tankard towards her. He took a reflective sip of his own. "Can't say, really. I'm sure she had her reasons. She may well have hoped you wouldn't make it into Hogwarts. Then you could live your life out as a muggle, and never get involved with the war."

Nym choked on her butterbeer. She coughed, trying desperately to get air. Lupin was out of his chair in an instant, pounding on her back until she stopped coughing. He leaned over to look her right in the eyes. His were very kind eyes, though much older than they should been. Fine wrinkles already framed them, and his lashes, she noted even in the dim light of the pub, were gray like his eyes. Oddly, she noticed his smell. It reminded her of a dog, though not quite unpleasant. "Are you alright?" She nodded.

"What war?" she asked quietly. He told her. He spoke quietly for the better part of an hour, about Voldemort and the Death Eaters, the attacks on muggles and muggle-borns, on blood traitors and half bloods. "Even though he uses half bloods in his forces," Lupin added bitterly. When he was finished, he added, "I'd say that's why your mum wouldn't let you come home over Christmas. We suspect her sisters are Death Eaters, or married to them."

"We?" Nym couldn't quite take in all he'd said. Why had no one told her? Why hadn't she noticed?

"Those of us working with Dumbledore against them."

There was silence for a long time. Finally, Nym could keep it no longer. "What should I do?" she asked. Lupin seemed to have all the answers. He had to have one for this question. She didn't know what she'd do if he didn't.

"Stay at Hogwarts, go to lessons, do your homework. Keep a low profile and try to stay out of the way." He reached across the table and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You're too young to do anything else, Nym. Your mother wanted you protected, and that's what we're going to do. Me and Sirius and James."

"Not Wormtail?" Nym asked, trying a lame joke.

Lupin gave her a sharp look. "Call him Peter. Too many pranks have our nicknames attached to them." But then he smiled. "No, not him. He'll be hard pressed to take care of himself." He glanced at his watch. "Perhaps we'd best be getting back to the castle. It'll be supper time soon." He stood and Nym followed.

As Lupin reached for the door handle, the door swung open to reveal Professor Prewett, covered in snow and backed by the swirling snow that had started to fall outside.

Momentarily forgetting her disguise, Nym stepped back in shock, and tripped over a chair leg. Down she fell, taking the chair with her, until she was hopelessly entangled in it. Several patrons looked over to see what the fuss was. Seeing only a clumsy little girl, blushing prettily, they turned back to their own business.

"Afternoon, Remus," Professor Prewett said, nodding to Lupin. He knelt next to Nym. "You've done a good job on this spell, Lupin. No one could possibly recognize her." He helped Nym to her feet. "Feeling alright, Nym?" his eyes twinkled in merriment.

"How did…" Nym gasped. That was the end of it, then. He'd recognized her. She had a mental picture of herself, thirty years old and writing lines in the Transfiguration classroom.

"I know no one else," Professor Prewett said with a small smile, "who is quite so chronically clumsy. And, of course, you're the only other Gryffindor still at Hogwarts." His finger made a small motion towards her school crest, just visible under her cloak.

"Oh," Nym said quietly. Now what? Was he going to haul her up to the castle by the ear, the way her mother had taken her to her room when Nym had been caught sneaking cookies?

"Have a good evening, sir," Remus said politely. What? Was he just going to leave her like this? Hadn't he been the one who talked her into this? His fingers closed around her wrist and he pulled her – just a little – out into the snow.

"You too," Professor Prewett called, just before he closed the door.

Nym felt her knees go weak with relief. He'd let her go. He hadn't done anything. "Worried?" Lupin asked with a grin. Nym nodded. Words didn't begin to describe how worried she'd been. Being caught away from Hogwarts was grounds for expulsion. What would she have done if she'd been kicked out? Lupin laughed. "Don't worry about it too much. Professor Prewett's really good about stuff like this. Used to sneak off the grounds a lot himself."

"He told you that?" Nym gasped. Professor Prewett had always seemed very nice, if a bit distant. That was understandable, though, because he didn't teach Nym anything. But never had she imagined him, or any of the teachers for that matter, disobeying the rules as youths. She'd never even considered they'd been young once.

"Course not. Can't go around telling students that sort of thing, they'll get ideas." Lupin was grinning again. It was the grin that always seemed a bit wolfish to Nym. "We broke into the school records at one point. Together, his file and his brother's are almost as thick as one of ours."

"One of yours," Nym repeated. She'd like to get a look at those records one day. The boys sometimes talked about things they'd done, but Nym was sure what they told her didn't even begin to scratch the surface.


	8. Christmas

_In the original responses in this one, I promised to go into how Nym picked up the nickname Tonks. Thirty chapters done, and I still haven't even touched on the subject. Oops, forgot. Although to be fair, I still haven't reached the point when I planned to bring it up, so it isn't a problem. It just means I'll have to keep going, doesn't it? On another note, I don't like Peter. He gets a hair more personality, and that's about it. Personally, I find him boring. So if you're a big fan, I'm sorry, but that's how it goes._

_I'd like to point out that, while there is a lot of Remus/Tonks interaction in this, that does not mean there is any sort of romance between them. She is eleven. He is seventeen, maybe eighteen. An age gap like that will not matter when she is in her twenties, but for a first boyfriend, Remus is not my first pick for her. So, potential inklings that there might someday be foreshadowing may come up (since Rowling recently revealed RL/NT in HBP) but actual romance? No._

**Christmas**

Chapter Eight

Christmas morning dawned just the way Nym thought a Christmas should dawn. She assumed it did, anyway. She slept in until nearly noon, when she stumbled down the stairs to the Common Room to find Remus reclined in front of the tree.

"Good morning. What's left of it."

Nym yawned inelegantly. "What time is it?"

"Quarter after eleven."

Nym spotted pile of presents under the tree. By the wrappings strewn all around the room she guessed Lupin had already opened his, so these must be hers. She sat on the floor by the presents and picked the top one up. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

She carefully lifted the corner of the wrapping. She couldn't see any tape, anywhere on the package. There must be some magical way of wrapping presents, she reasoned, because all of hers were wrapped like the display ones in department stores.

"I can't get into the girls' dormitory."

"Why not?" Curiosity had taken her into the boys' one day. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it wasn't what she found. The same big beds are the girls had, in the same sort of rooms. The major difference was that most of the girls kept their things in some semblance of order, where most of the boys had socks hanging off the edges of their mirrors. If she could get up there, why couldn't Remus, who was a much better wizard than she was a witch, get into hers?

Remus stood lethargically, stretching as if he'd been draped over the chair for quite some time. Considering the foot-thick book he dropped on the seat cushion, he probably had been. It was only a few yards to the base of the stairs, but he walked slowly. Up one stair, two. As his foot touched the third stair, the whole staircase dropped out, the stairs flattening themselves into a slide. Remus slid back down with the same poise he'd walked up.

"First time I did that, I slid all the way to that table. Frank nearly died laughing."

Nym didn't bother asking who Frank was. Remus often made references to people long gone from Hogwarts. Instead, she asked, "What if you jumped the third stair?" The stairs were already reforming.

"Tried it. Beyond the third step, you're toast."

"But I can get into the boys' dormitory."

"It's an old and chivalrous spell. Stupid thing." He glared at the offending piece of architecture. "I was going to get Evans but good, and then I couldn't even get up the stairs."

"What'd she do?" Nym asked, the present in her lap forgotten.

"Ratted. It was our third year. We'd cornered Snivellus, and were going to switch his ears with the ones from his pet rat." His mouth twisted. "We only just got away before Tofty showed up. Evans was always too soft towards Snivellus."

"But Prongs still picks on him, doesn't he? What does Evans think of that?"

"That's James to you, or Potter," Remus told her sharply. Then the lines in his face relaxed. "Evans doesn't know anything about what James does to Snivellus, stupid. He's not stupid enough to tell her."

Nym didn't completely understand who Snivellus was, or why Sirius and Prongs liked to pick on him so much. Sirius had pointed him out to her once, with strict orders to 'stay away from that slimy git', but beyond that things got a little more hazy. Snivellus was a constant annoyance to the two boys, and to a lesser extent Remus. Naturally, Wormtail had to jump on the bandwagon. So there was something of a war between the four and Snivellus, and between Sirius and Regulus, and between James and any Slytherin quidditch player. Luckily, or so it seemed to Nym, it hadn't occurred to any of the Slytherins to join forces against the Marauders.

Remus grinned at her suddenly. "You going to open that?" With a start, Nym remembered the half open present in her lap. Sheepishly, she turned back to it, destroying the beautiful wrapping in her haste to get it open. Oh well, she thought as she glanced at the shredded paper, that's half the fun anyway.

It was a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate. Riffling through the wrappings, Nym found the card. It was really just a handwritten slip of paper with her name on it, and a Christmas greeting. Zack had signed his name with a flourish, so the Z seemed to have been slashed across the page. It reminded her of something. It niggled her mind as she stared at the card. Something to do with home. Of course, she remembered with a start. It looked like that thing from Zorro, her cousin Robbie's favorite movie. After watching it he'd always run around with the plastic rapier Uncle Rod had given him.

She felt a stab of homesickness, but pushed it away. That wasn't really her home now. You could never go back, as the saying went. She'd always love her parents, and her Uncle Rod and Robbie and all the rest of her family, but they were only a part of who she really was. The other part was what they'd never understand. She was a witch, and even if she'd only known it for a year, it was ingrained in her like part of her soul. She could never give up the magic and go back to being plain, muggle Nymphadora Tonks.

The next package, a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, came from Rick. "Every flavor is right," Remus said when she showed him. "There's every flavor imaginable in there. Wormtail thought he found a puke flavored one, but I figure he was just trying to copy James, who found Old Socks."

From her mother Nym received a thick book, which the card said contained 'all manner of useful things'. Flipping through, Nym found a fudge recipe, quotes from various religious texts, and a number of quotes about peace, tranquility, and general thoughtfulness. Her father, it seemed, had disagreed with Andromeda's choice of Christmas gift for their daughter, and had sent a separate package.

Nym lifted the largish box into her lap, noting that its contents shifted as she did. She paused for a moment before opening it. How much time she'd spent missing her mother, so often forgetting that her dad was equally dear to her. He just spent less time interfering in Nym's life. For all that, he hadn't forgotten his little girl. He'd remembered that her favorite color was a brilliant emerald green, and he'd tied it with thick gold ribbon that glittered with stars.

She untied the ribbon, coiled it neatly, and put it in the pocket of her jeans. They'd been the first thing to hand this morning, and she hadn't bothered looking for anything more festive, or even cleaner. The wrapping she didn't bother saving, but she didn't tear into it the way she had the other presents. Underneath was a plain brown box with holes in it. Nym had seen boxes like this enough to know what it contained. Her heart hammered in anticipation and hope and she opened the box. Please let it be what she thought it was.

It wasn't. Where she'd hoped – expected, even – to see soft feathers was soft fur. The kitten opened its eyes and mewed piteously at her. She reached into the box and lifted the little body up, cradling it to her chest and looking into its big green eyes. It mewed again and stuck a little of its tongue out.

It's not your fault you're not an owl, Nym thought as she cuddled it. The little creature cocked its head to the side and blinked at her, as if to say it was sorry, but it wasn't going to change any time soon. Perhaps Nym read more into than there had been – it was only a kitten, after all – but her interpretation reminded her of her thoughts that day she'd gone to Hogsmeade with Remus. She wasn't pretty and cute and all those things that Hope and Opal and Rose and Mary were, and she wasn't Minetta, but being Nym wasn't really so bad, most of the time. Perhaps the kitten would be alright.

"What'll you call her?" Remus asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at the kitten. Nym thought of all the witchy sounding names that cats had in movies, things like Hex and Jinx and so forth. But those seemed better suited to a black cat of noble bulk, not a little rag of gray fur.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll think of something later." Remus shrugged, accepting her choice. That was one of the things she liked about him; he never seemed to think she was too young to do things, like have her own opinions. He didn't offer any names for the cat.

The kitten, looking at her with those wide eyes, didn't seem to mind.


	9. Bright Snow

**Bright Snow**

Chapter Nine

Hogwarts always seemed to have more than its share of gorgeous weather. Perhaps, Nym thought glumly, that was to make up for all the horrible things that happened there. She curled up closer in her little niche, burying her face in her knees to hide the tear streaks. It wasn't fair that she was so little, and so useless at any sort of useful magic. Well, maybe not useless. She just didn't know any.

Not like Regulus. He knew plenty of useful magic. He'd just proved that, magically turning her books into snakes that turned on her and making beasts appear and disappear in the air around her. He'd stood there and laughed when she ran, dropping her few remaining books and fleeing to the safety of the castle.

"Nym?" Even soft like that, she recognized Sirius's voice. "Nym." She looked up at her cousin. He knelt on one knee so his eyes were level with hers. He looked so much like Regulus, like Nym herself, with his black hair falling in his eyes, which were set over a slim, straight nose. No matter how much they all looked alike, they were all completely different. Regulus was mean and bullying, Sirius was brave and brilliant and Nym, well, she was little and clumsy and rather on the timid side. "What happened?" he asked gently. He sounded concerned. That wasn't like Sirius, she thought. If Sirius was concerned, he tended to hide it behind a lot of bravado and rough jokes.

"Nothing." Nym wiped her nose on her sleeve and got up, trying to slip past him. She hadn't been able to act the same towards him after she'd found out he was Regulus's brother, even if they were as different as could be. He caught her arm and held. Nym tried to pull away, but he was much bigger than he was, and stronger.

"Sit down." He still sounded concerned, but his voice was very firm. She sat, and stared fixedly at the wall opposite. She'd listen to what he had to say, but she wasn't going to tell him anything. She'd deal with Regulus herself. She didn't need Sirius to fight her battles for her. "Evans found your books. She's all set to murder James and I if she gets even the slightest hint we were involved. Which means," he added, looking pointedly at her, "that I have to find out what happened, because James is an idiot as far as Evans is concerned. Now, why don't you tell me?"

"What?" Nym asked sullenly.

"What happened."

"Nothing happened."

"And I suppose I'm supposed to believe that you were overcome with happiness and just threw your books in the air and skipped back to the Common Room. Is that it?"

"Yes."

She could feel Sirius's eyes on her. Very reluctantly, she turned to face him. "Do you think I can't help you, or won't try?" Nym didn't say anything. "Or," Sirius said slowly, "do you not want me to help?" Nym looked up at him, trying to express everything she felt in her face. She loved that he was concerned, that he wanted to try and help and protect her, but she wanted to do this herself. She had to. Sirius sighed heavily. "I was afraid so. Is there some way I could help you any way? A spell you don't know or some such?"

Nym hesitated. It wouldn't hurt to ask, would it? Unless he wanted to know why she had that particular request. He'd probably already guessed, of course, but her asking would confirm it. It was probably her only chance, though. Zack or Rick could help her learn spells, but they'd only be second and third year spells, and they wouldn't help her against Regulus. "Could… could you teach me to duel?"

You weren't allowed to duel at the school, of course. It was too likely that someone would get hurt, and then there would be questions asked and lawsuits filed. But he could teach her spells to use… maybe, if he would.

Sirius's face split into a huge grin. "No problem, little cousin. James and I'll have you up to scratch in no time."

"I'll never get this all done," Mandy wailed, and Nym heard her quill bounce off the table and a muffled thump as Mandy buried her head in her arms. Nym glanced over the top of her books. Mandy was sitting at one of the library tables, her feet hanging with a defeated air several inches from the floor.

"Come on Mandy," Rick said encouragingly, "it can't be as bad as all that."

"It is," Mandy said miserably. "I'll never finish this essay for Professor Binns, and then I have an assignment to do for Professor Tofty, and Professor Prewett wants us to read up on Transfiguration theory for a test tomorrow."

"That is kind of a lot," Rick admitted. "But it can't be that bad. You've got plenty of time left."

"I just don't get it," Mandy sighed. She looked over at Nym. "How do you do it? You almost never do homework, but you get it all done anyway, and you get top marks on top of that."

Nym would never admit it to anyone, but she got her homework done so quickly because Remus helped her. She didn't consider this cheating, because she did all the work and he just told her the information. It meant a lot less time cross referencing and searching for obscure books in the library. And he explained things really well, so she understood what she was supposed to be learning and learned a whole lot more besides.

"I do a lot of it in my Common Room, is all. You just don't see me do it." Mandy and Rick were both in Hufflepuff, so they wouldn't know that, while this was true, she'd omitted a few key details. Like Remus helping her. And how, being finished so quickly, she used the spare time learning spells from James and Sirius.

Sirius spent the most time teaching her, because as Quidditch captain and Head Boy, James didn't have a lot of time to spare between his responsibilities and his class work. But she worked with them every day of the week, except when they had detention, in which case Remus would teach her. Unless he was in there too, in which case she was left to fend for herself.

James often said she was one of the most adept people he'd ever taught – not that much of a compliment, really, because he normally tutored the kids who wouldn't manage even a T in their exams without hours of extra help – and she could be even better if she would only stop tripping over her robes and snagging her wand on things. But he said this in a joking way, and Nym thought he was genuinely proud of her. Even she thought she'd made a lot of progress in the month since Regulus had attacked her out on the grounds.

She turned back to her book, leaving Rick to try and help Mandy. It wasn't that Mandy was stupid; she was just very emotional, and tended to over react or stop paying attention because something else distracted her. So between getting up to talk to people and panic attacks, she didn't get much done. Nym had tried to help her before, but she just couldn't explain things the way Rick could. Right now, she'd rather read her book than try.

Remus had lent it to her, telling her that, while she wouldn't need the information until her third or fourth year at least, it was written in a simple enough style that she could understand it without a lot of background knowledge, and besides, it was interesting. And it really was. It talked about all sorts of magics that wizards could have, or find, but couldn't necessarily use. At least, not the way they used wands and potions. There was a section on animagi and metaphorphimagi, and one on magical auras, and one on divinition, and one on magical beings. That was the section Nym was reading now, and it was easily the most interesting, in a fascinating book, with the exception of the one on metamorphimagi. She'd read about vampires and hags and was now onto werewolves. It was going slowly, because every once in a while she had to put the book down, close her eyes, and shiver in utter horror.

"Hey Nym," a voice hissed in her ear. Nym sat up straighter and glanced around before she could stop herself. There was no one there. Perhaps it had been the wind outside, which was rapidly rising to gale force. "Nym," it came again.

"Who's there?" she asked quietly. It wouldn't do for someone to hear her and wonder why she was talking to herself. Come to that, Nym wasn't sure she wasn't.

"James. Do you want to come to Hogsmeade with me'n Sirius and Remus?"

"Sure," she whispered back, and left the library, lifting her hand in farewell to Mandy and Rick. She wasn't sure they saw, but she felt better for having made an attempt to say goodbye. She made her way to the statue of the hideous witch, with James correcting her quietly each time she took a wrong turn. Remus and Sirius were waiting, lounging across the corridor, apparently completely at ease.

Nym bit back a cry as James appeared next to her, a long shimmering cloak in his hand. "Useful things, invisibility cloaks," he commented to no one in particular. He folded it up and slid it into a large pocket in his cloak. "Shall we then?"

Sirius led the way into the tunnel, but paused when they were about halfway to Hogsemeade by Nym's reckoning. "You want to disguise yourself, Nym?" he asked.

Nym turned to face Remus. Hadn't he promised not to tell? He gestured to James and Sirius to continue with a very pointed glance. The went around the next bend. "How could you?" Nym hissed as soon as the light from James's wand had disappeared.

"It's not what you think," Remus said quickly. "Sirius meant, do you want one of us to disguise you. I keep my promises, Nym. I didn't tell. They don't know." He glanced in the direction James and Sirius had disappeared. "Do you want to change, or do you want me to disguise you, or what?"

Nym smiled a bit uncertainly. She hadn't really thought he'd tell. But when Sirius had said that… "Could you make me a mirror to use?" Remus nodded, and the light from his wand went out, so they were only illuminated by the pale glow at the tip of Nym's own. A long mirror appeared on the wall of the tunnel.

It took much less time to change this time. Within a minute Nym was gone, replaced by pretty little Minetta. Remus got rid of the mirror, and together they headed up the tunnel to join James and Sirius, who were standing looking a little bored. "About time you got here Moony," Sirius said. "And… well, well, Nym. Almost didn't recognize you. Do you have any idea how much you look like your mum?"

Nym shrugged. She sort of did, but she didn't like to think about it. Christmas had been over a month ago, and still her mother hadn't sent her any sort of letter telling her she was sorry Nym couldn't come home for the holidays. Nym was still very annoyed with her.

There was no one in the store room when they emerged from the tunnel, nor in the street when they slid out the door, having avoided Mrs. Honeydukes's watchful gaze while slipping through her store. "Thinks we'll all come to terrible ends for being out here," James said. He led the way through the fierce wind to the Three Broomsticks.

Inside they pulled back their cloaks, because Madame Rosmerta always kept the pub very warm. Nym could see the red in the boys' cheeks from the cold and the wind, and considering how hers burned, her own must not be much better. The proprietress herself bustled over to meet them, her sequined heels clicking on the stone floor. "Sirius," she said happily, extending her arms and giving him a kiss on each wind burned cheek. She turned. "James." He received the same greeting, as did Remus. All three of the boys accepted the attention without expression, never twitching. Madame Rosmerta turned to Nym. "Minetta, darling. It's so good to see you again." Nym felt herself stiffen when the woman bent to embrace and kiss her as well. "But where's little Peter?"

"Detention," Remus said. "Spilled a whole table's potions." Rosmerta shook her head in sympathy.

They settled at a table, and Madame Rosmerta hurried away to fetch butterbeers. "You get stiffer every time she does that," Sirius said with a laugh, punching James in the arm. "What, you think Evans is going to find out?"

James's face got, if it was possible, even redder. "Shut up."

Remus and Sirius laughed. "Come on Prongs. Evans wouldn't care, and it's not like Rosmerta means anything by it."

"Lily's been really funny lately. I think she wants to get married after school." James said it quietly, but very quickly.

"What's wrong with that?" Remus asked. "Lots of girls do."

"Or did you mean to you?" Nym chimed in, as though this was an entirely new concept. It wasn't, of course. She'd talked a lot with him when he was teaching her, and now she regarded him as something of an older brother, as she did Remus and Sirius. Which meant she knew how he and Evans felt about each other, even if she thought he was rather stupid for loving someone like Evans. She was just too… perfect and respectable for someone like James.

"Well, um, yeah," James managed. Rosmerta's heels clicked as she set the tankards on their table.

"Drink up now." She beamed.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Remus, Sirius and Nym cracked up. "Prongs, you should see yourself," Sirius gasped. He sat up very straight, pulled at his collar a little, and said in a very strained voice, "I am going to marry a prat, oh woe…" he got no farther, and just collapsed against the table, laughing and choking. James tackled him out of his chair, and the two tussled briefly in a heap as other patrons edged their chairs out of the way.

When they both returned to the table, James was laughing too, if not as hard as Sirius. "He's right, you know," Remus said, "Evans is a bit of a prat."

James rolled his eyes. "I know she does have her moments, but if you'd just give her a chance," he paused, looking at the faces of his companions, "why do I even bother?" he sighed. He looked at Nym. "I would have thought you, at least, would see something in that besides humor."

Nym sobered quickly. "James, I know you love Evans and all, and I wish you both happiness and all that, but really, she _is _a terrible prat."

James rolled his eyes. "What about you, Sirius?" he asked. "Got any plans? I noticed you had your eye on that little Johnson girl."

"Me?" Sirius seemed genuinely shocked. "Married? That would involve a wedding with," he shuddered, "relatives."

"Oh, but it would be such fun," Remus said. "I can just see your darling mum now."

"Blood traitors," James chimed in, his voice a shrill falsetto.

"Half breeds," Remus added, in an equally piercing voice.

Sirius grinned. "Shame of my house." The three doubled up laughing.

"What?" Nym asked.

Remus stopped laughing, thought the corner of his mouth twitched. "That was her litany every time we showed up during the holidays."

"She tended to throw things too, though," James said reflectively.

"Like the troll-foot umbrella stand."

"She threw that at you?" Sirius asked. "Dear me, I must have been sick. I'd remember her throwing that hideous old thing at you lot."

James nodded. "My favorite was when she threw Kreacher at me. He wailed and wailed. Thought she was setting him free. The house elf," he explained to Nym. "Absolutely bonkers, even by house elf standards."

Valentines day, being on a weekend, was a Hogsmeade weekend. Normally that wouldn't have meant anything to Nym, except for a day without seeing Remus, James, Sirius and Zack – but also, thankfully, Evans and Regulus. When Peter had mentioned it at supper one night, the other three boys had traded looks then looked, as one, at Nym. There seemed to be some unspoken understanding between the three of them.

"Nym," Remus leaned over a little and whispered in her ear. "We think you should come with us."

"I went less than a week ago," Nym murmured, though really for form. She'd love to go. But wouldn't someone notice her walking out the doors?

"I don't think you understand. In less than five months, we'll be gone. We want to do as much with you as we can." He smiled at her. "You're our little sis, now. Gotta take care of you, before Regulus or Snivellus does."

Nym had had no real protests, so the next day she went to Hogsmeade with Sirius and Remus. James, of course, had a date with Lily, and didn't seem too upset about it. "Cracked," had been Sirius's comment as James hurried through breakfast to get going as soon as possible.

They'd sent Peter away before taking Nym into a deserted side corridor and covering her with James's invisibility cloak. "Peter's got a mouth on him like a torn pocket," Remus had said grimly. "Never stops flapping. We figure it's better if he doesn't know about you."

Peter, it turned out, had decided against going to Hogsmeade as soon as it became apparent that none of the others wanted him around. "He'll be unbearable for days," Remus said. "Until James or Sirius does something amazing, and they're his heroes all over again."

"Not you?" Nym asked quietly. Of the three boys, Remus was perhaps her favorite, although it was hard to really say she liked one better than another. Sirius was bold and funny, and made her laugh. James taught her all sorts of cool magic and neat flying things. Remus was the quiet one, but he had also been the first one Nym had really been friends with. That, combined with his treating her the way she thought you should treat a little sister, made him something of her favorite. If, she reminded herself, she could really be said to have a favorite.

Remus shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I don't see how they can stand to have him toadying around, personally."

They walked through the streets, introducing her to everyone as Minetta Nigellus, Sirius's little blond cousin. Well, second cousin once removed actually, Remus would mutter occasionally, making sure that people heard, but what were a few 'removed's between friends?

Nym thoroughly enjoyed her day, except for a few brief encounters. The first of these was when Regulus and a bunch of his cronies spotted them. "Well, well," Regulus had cackled evilly. "Who have we here?"

"I'm surprised you don't know," Sirius said coldly. "She is a relative of yours, after all."

"Are you indeed?" Regulus turned to Nym. "What are you doing with a blood traitor like him, then?"

Nym summoned up her courage. She hadn't faced Regulus since that day in early January, but Remus and Sirius standing on either side of her seemed to give her strength. "Well, seeing as he's the only relative who's been even the littlest bit courteous to me," she said, curling her lip in a way she'd seen her mother do once, with great contempt. Andromeda had later denied having any such expression of distaste, but Nym knew what she had seen. "Unlike some others, who seem to find it funny to have my broom throw me." She glared pointedly at Regulus, then turned and flounced away.

She'd done it. She almost stopped in the street and cried with relief. At the same time, she wanted to run, sure he would recognize her any second and come tearing after her, ripe for revenge. He didn't come, though, and she and Remus and Sirius continued their walk.

The second scare came when the were in the quidditch store, talking to Mr. Goodewin. They'd gone through the introductions, and Mr. Goodewin had asked Nym if she wanted to play quidditch when she was older, and she'd said yes, she wanted to be a Chaser, and Mr. Goodewin had smiled and said that was wonderful, and she was welcome any time. Then he'd turned to talk to Sirius, and Nym had wandered around the shop. Until she turned and found Zack looking at her from across the store.

She went bright red in the face, sure that he would recognize her. He'd know she wasn't supposed to be here, and he'd want to know what she was doing and how she'd got there. Even before she turned away she knew he'd seen the shame in her cheeks. But when she glanced back, he was gone. No, she thought in despair. She could deal with Zack being angry, hurt, anything. Just not abandoning her. He was one of her best friends. She'd explain it all to him when she got back. Surely he'd understand.

She didn't see him again, but she began to feel steadily more wretched as the day wore on. She only picked at her burger at lunch. "Huh, no wonder you're not hungry. I wouldn't eat that no matter how much you paid me," Sirius said.

Nym rolled her eyes. "It's a _hamburger_, Sirius. They're supposed to look like this. It's really good. I'm just," she added quietly, "not hungry." They were sitting in a little pub owned by a young American witch. She had pointedly refused to call it a pub, though, so the sign outside called it the 'Genie Café'. Already several people, obviously more traveled than Sirius, had wandered in to order burgers. A few of them had actually been looking for fancy coffees, but had decided a burger would work just as well.

Nym wasn't actually as confident about American burgers as she made out. She'd only been in America for a weekend when she was seven, but this was about how she remembered them from her one trip to a hamburger chain. Whether it was a proper burger or not didn't bother her. She'd taken one bite, and she'd been hooked. She just wasn't hungry right now.

The witch behind the counter packed it up before they left, smiling sympathetically at Nym as she did. "Here you go Min." She was the only one of the shopkeepers that addressed her so informally after having just met her. Nym sort of liked it, being called Min like a kid instead of 'Miss Nigellus' like a little old woman.

She could feel Remus's eyes on her when they stepped out into the snow covered street. "Sirius," he said, "would you mind walking ahead a little?" Sirius started to protest, but Remus made some little motion that Nym didn't quite catch, and quashed the argument. "Now Nym," Remus said quietly, "what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Nym muttered.

"Don't give me nothing." He said it pleasantly, but firmly. He was going to get the answer from her, one way or another. "You've been a regular rain cloud since we went to the quidditch shop. Even Sirius has noticed it. Now, what's going on?"

Nym shook her head. "It's stupid."

"It can't be, if it's making you this upset." Nym looked up at him, measuring. He was the 'brother' she was closest to, but she wasn't sure she was quite close enough to tell him about Zack. She found him looking back at her. It wasn't curiosity or any sort of prying question she found in his face, but concern over what was making her so unhappy. Somehow, she knew that he, like Sirius, would do whatever he could to make it right.

"It's… it's… oh, it's so stupid," Nym sighed. "I saw Zack in the quidditch shop, and he saw me, and he kinda just looked at me then turned and walked away."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Remus asked gently. "Lots of people are doing that, you know. They're trying to place you. You should be a student at the school, but no older than a second year, so you shouldn't be here. So they can't figure out who you are, if you're both."

"But, it wasn't like that," Nym protested. "I mean, he was staring at me."

"So you think he recognized you?"

Nym shook her head again. "I don't know what to think. I mean, I know how little I look like myself, but I can't think of any other reason for him to stare at me like that."

"Perhaps you reminded him of someone. Certainly you remind me of several people. Not," he added thoughtfully, "any that I liked, mind you. All relatives of Sirius."

Grateful for the change in topic, or at least slight shift, Nym asked the first question into her mind. "Does Sirius have a lot of relative then?" She never thought of them as her relatives, although they must have been, in a sort of diagonal way. She hadn't even heard of them before she came to Hogwarts.

"Plenty. All the pure blood families are related, although some won't admit it. A few too many of us are 'blood traitors', as Sirius's mum says."

"Us? You're one of them?"

"Sure. So are you. Anyone is, as long as they have two magical parents. At least," he added, "that's what Dumbledore says. You ask Sirius's mum, and you'll get a really different answer."

"So…" Nym fumbled for a way to ask her next question politely. "Why aren't you all as dotty as King Stephen or King George?" She wasn't sure King Stephen had actually been all that crazy, but he'd certainly looked it in the portrait she'd seen of him on a school excursion to the museum. And her mum had said King George was crazy, and her mum told the truth. Except about important things, it seemed.

"You two done talking yet?" Sirius called back.

"I suppose," Remus answer, as though he'd prefer it if Sirius stayed a good distance off, but would put up with him if he had to. His grin said it was all in fun, and Sirius's agreed. "She wants to know why pure bloods aren't all crazy."

Sirius grinned. "Who says they aren't? My aunt something or other, can't remember her name all of a sudden, started a tradition in our family. You want to know what it was?"

Tradition? Nym wondered. Frankly, she was surprised more Blacks hadn't started traditions. That family's lives seemed to centre around tradition. "Um, sure."

"Chopped off her house elf's head and mounted it on a plaque. There must be twenty of the things in my mum's house by now, all covered in dust and worshiped by the current house elf. It's his dream to join his forbearers up there." He was grinning wickedly now.

"You're poking fun at me," Nym said.

Sirius held up a hand as if offended. "Wizard's honor. Kreacher's a bit daft anyway, but that cinched it in my book. He wants his head up on that wall alongside old Jinky's. Can't wait until he's too old to be of any more use, and then," he brought his hand down expressively. Nym felt her eyes widen. Nutters, that's what they all were. Pure bloods and house elves and even mostly nice, somewhat typical wizards like Sirius.


	10. Deep Freeze

**Deep Freeze**

Chapter Ten

Nym curled in her little alcove. It was a comfortable spot, and no one ever bothered her here. Except that one time when Sirius had found her after Regulus picked on her. She wasn't sure how he'd found it. No one else seemed able to.

The light from her wand, jammed in a crack in the wall above her head, illuminated the book in front of her. She hadn't been able to return it to Remus just yet. She wanted to read it again and again until she knew every word by rote. It was such an amazing book. Like a story, almost, except even better because it was true. Except the part about werewolves. That still scared her terribly.

She was reading that part now. She wanted to remember it particularly, because Remus had said that it was the only piece he'd found that was entirely accurate and complete when it came to werewolves. He'd seemed very sure about it. She wanted to ask him about that, to see if it really was all true, but he was off sick again. He seemed to have the worst immune system she'd ever encountered, which was odd because she'd never seen him so much as sneeze, even when the whole House had had the flu, right down to Peter, who had been quarantined in the hospital wing.

A single phrase caught her eye. She'd always skimmed over it before, hating what it implied. Now it seemed to stand out in neon, and she couldn't pull her eyes away.

"_Oh, but it would be such fun," Remus said. "I can just see your darling mum now."_

"_Blood traitors," James chimed in, his voice a shrill falsetto._

"_Half breeds," Remus added, in an equally piercing voice._

_Sirius grinned. "Shame of my house." The three doubled up laughing._

Half breeds. Werewolves. Nym closed her eyes, but the traitorous words still burned in her vision. Half breed. Werewolf. _Remus_.

The book slid from her limp fingers and landed open on a picture of a man transforming into a werewolf. The look of absolute pain on his face was too powerful to be imagined. Nym turned away and hid her face in the stone corner, willing the words and the image out of her mind. No, she kept thinking, not Remus. Not a werewolf.

Nym woke to a hand on her shoulder. James was crouched next to her, his face skeletal in the flickering light of the torch down the corridor. "You really shouldn't be down here Nym," he said quietly. "It's too close to the Slytherin Common Room."

She looked him full in the face. He didn't know. Not him, nor Sirius. They thought Remus was just like everyone else. How could Nym tell them he wasn't, that he was a… a… she started crying again. James looked pained. Glancing both ways down the corridor, he scooped Nym up and pulled her under his cloak. He really was much bigger than her, Nym realized as he shifted the cloak to cover them both completely. "_Silencio_," James muttered.

Nym kept crying – she couldn't seem to stop – but she was no longer making any sound. She was so surprised she hiccoughed, then started crying again.

James set her down with a sigh. For the first time since he'd picked her up, Nym glanced around. She was back in the Common Room, on one of the squashy couches in front of the fireplace, which had been banked for the night. She looked around for James, but couldn't see him anyway. "James?" she asked softly.

There was a swish of fabric, and James appeared in front of her, his invisibility cloak over his arm. He settled into a chair facing her. "What's wrong Nym? If it's Regulus again, I swear you could have come to us. We would have done everything…" he stopped, because Nym was shaking her head. How could she explain? Remus was his best friend. She half hoped he wouldn't believe her if she told him, because then he could go on being friends with him. He wouldn't be her friend anymore, though.

"Remus is a werewolf," she gasped, then clapped a hand to her mouth. Fresh tears poured out. She hadn't meant to let it out like that, but it had just popped out. At length she risked a glance at James, afraid to see his reaction.

James sat calmly, expressionless. "Is that what's bothering you?" She managed to nod.

"James?" came a voice from the dark somewhere. James swore softly.

"It's nothing, Lily," he called quietly. "Really."

"Are you sure? Do you need any help?"

"No, I'll be done in a few minutes."

"This had better not be a prelude to another of your pranks," the voice warned.

"Honest, Lil. I'm being a good little boy, really I am. I'm doing all the things a Head Boy is supposed to done and none of the ones they aren't." Nym saw him roll his eyes.

"Well," Lily sounded doubtful. "Alright then. Goodnight James."

"G'night." He turned back to Nym. "Really Nym, that's what you're upset about?" Nym nodded again.

"Stupid," James muttered. Nym shrank back into her couch. "Not you," he said hurriedly. "Us. We were much too open around you. We didn't mean for you to find out."

"Then you know?"

James's mouth quirked into a bit of a smile. "Have for years. It's not a big deal, but don't go spreading it around. You dropped this, by the way." He tossed Remus's book into her lap. She couldn't bring herself to look at it, but stared fixedly at his face.

Nym felt herself smiling in return. "Uh, James, how did you find me? No one else seems to go down there."

"They don't, do they?" He grinned, the sort of grin the promised mayhem. "Perhaps I'll tell you some day. For now," he stood and stretched, "I promised to meet the others in Hogsemeade. Not a word to Lily, right?"

"Right." James winked at her and disappeared. Nym turned and made her way slowly up to the dormitory.

"Nym?" Nym lowered her book to look at the speaker. Mandy was looking up at her, her eyes wide. Nym looked down at her friend from her perch on top of one of the library bookshelves. She wasn't sure why she liked it up there so much, only that it was rather peaceful, and people didn't seem inclined to bother her over much. Not even the librarian. "Zack's looking for you to go flying."

Nym's heart caught in her throat. It had been a week since that disastrous Hogsemeade trip, and she hadn't seen Zack since. But the time hadn't done anything to prepare her for the inevitable confrontation. If anything, it had made her more apprehensive.

Mandy saw her to the front doors. "I'm not going outside," she said, when Nym asked. "It's too cold." Nym shrugged and made her way to the broom shed on her own. It was very cold, and the snow was a foot deep in places, but it wasn't as bad as all that. Paths had been worn into the snow, crisscrossing the grounds in a sort of convoluted web, on which some of the bullying older students preyed. Nym couldn't see any of them just now, thankfully. She hurried along the muddy paths, drawing her cloak closer about her head.

"Hey," Zack said when she ducked into the broom shed, thankful for the small warmth it provided. Someone, Zack she supposed, had conjured a little blue flame, which was flickering contentedly in a corner and adding a little warmth to the otherwise unheated hut.

"Bit cold for flying, don't you think?" she asked, pressing her hands to her cheeks, which burned from the wind. Or humiliation.

"It's not so bad as all that. Thought we could take a quick jaunt over the forest. I need the practice anyway."

"And I'm the only one crazy enough to go flying with you when it's this cold," Nym muttered. She wouldn't mind flying with him so much, but it really was cold. He didn't seem mad at her about Hogsmeade, though. That was something, at least.

"Come on Nym. It's not that cold out. It's only, what, minus twenty?"

Nym raised an eyebrow at him. "What scale are you on?"

Zack shrugged and laughed. "My point is, it's not that bad."

"Well, alright," Nym muttered.

I'm an idiot, she thought as she kicked off. It was hardly ten paces from the door of the hut to a decent kickoff point, and already the freezing wind had cut through her cloak. Zack was grinning, but Nym couldn't be sure if his face hadn't frozen that way.

Once off the ground, when the speed of her flight added to the already driving wind, the cold numbed her to her broom in a heartbeat. She forgot it all, the cold and the worry and the discomfort, when she really started to fly. The air was so thin, so _empty_. It rushed in to fill her lungs and was snatched out again almost before she finished drawing the breath.

"I think we should head back," Zack called. He needn't have, really. She could hear him just fine. Every sound seemed magnified and perfectly crystal, even over the howl of the wind and the snapping of her cloak.

Nym staggered into the hut, every part of her frozen. She hadn't realized until she landed just how cold she was. In the hut, which was probably even colder than it had been before they headed out but which now seemed tropical, she collapsed into a pile in front of the little blue flame. She rubbed her fingers, trying to coax a little warmth into them.

"Not like that." Zack sat down in front of her and took her hands, putting them together and putting his own on top. "Rubbing them could cause tissue damage."

"How do you know that?" His hands felt warm, although they must have been nearly as cold as Nym's own.

Zack blew on them, his hot breath positively burning her frozen hands. Which, now that they had started to warm up, had ceased to be numb and now hurt like anything. "My uncle in Switzerland takes us skiing every Christmas. I've had frost bite before." He opened his hands to show Nym her fingers which, she assumed, must have frost bite. She'd never had it before, although her mother had warned her about it every cold day that she went outside to play. It hadn't sounded nearly so bad as this.

No description or motherly warning could have done justice to what greeted her. Her fingers were white and waxy, like one of the marble statues that dotted the Hogwarts halls. Spots that seemed suspiciously grey dotted them, along with one that looked rather purple.

Zack's face was very red, with little white spots on each cheekbone, his nose and ears. From the burning of her own face, Nym assumed hers must look similar. Something of what she saw must have shown on her face. "It's pretty bad, isn't it? I guess flying today wasn't such a great idea."

Nym smiled at him. Flying hadn't been so bad, really. Freezing had been, but the flying, what little they had done, had almost been worth it. "It wasn't so bad. I mean, it was sort of fun."

Zack smiled back, and released her hands. He put his palms over his cheeks instead, and Nym copied him. "You put too happy a face on things," he said. "Don't rub." Nym held her hands perfectly still. "Thanks for coming anyway, no matter how bad it turned out."

"Really," Nym tried to assure him. "It wasn't as bad as all that. I didn't mind."

Zack just smiled and shook his head. "Think you can make it back to the castle? I have the perfect way to finish this all off."

"I think I can manage," Nym said. The perfect way? she wondered. What could _that _mean? Together they bundled under their cloaks and raced along the paths, Nym in the lead. Zack should have been the faster runner, but Nym's hurry to get back to the warmth of the main building lent her speed.

Until she barreled into something tall and solid. At first, for some reason, she thought she'd run into a rain barrel. Although what one of those would be doing on a path through the snow in February was beyond her. The she looked up, up past the pointed chin and the nose with its big, gaping nostrils to a pair of black eyes that glared at her. "Well, well, what have we here?" the boy sneered.

Nym was through with being scared of Regulus. Maybe James and Sirius had only been teaching her for a month and a half, maybe she was just a first year, but Regulus was just a bully. Besides, according to Sirius, he was a lot slower on the draw than Nym. "Leave me alone, Regulus," she snapped.

"Or what? You'll run crying to the twin saints?"

Nym just glared at him. She wouldn't tell Sirius or James no matter what he did – well, unless it was something really mean, because then he'd deserve whatever he had coming to him. He was reaching for his wand. Nym ripped hers out of her robe. "_Expelliarmus_," she yelled. It wasn't as good as it had been when she'd practiced with James. He'd taught her that one, because he said it was easy enough for a second year, so she'd be able to manage it no problem. It had been funny trying to learn it, because it was so different from the carefully controlled spells the first years normally did. Now she saw what it was really like, when there was no control to it. Her voice had quavered, and her hand had shaken.

She hadn't thought of that just then, of course. It had been 'do something _now_ and get out of here'. Which was what she did. All the thoughts about technique didn't come until after, when she was pelting across the school grounds. She had the vague sense that Regulus's wand had landed somewhere in a pile of snow, but she hadn't stopped to look.

There was a ragged breathing behind her. Nym made herself run faster, although her lungs were screaming already. So close. The doors were thirty feet away. Twenty. The breathing was getting louder. She wasn't going to make it. Regulus was going to catch her, and that would be the end. Fifteen feet.

A hand closed on her upper arm, spinning her around, off balance. Nym couldn't suppress the small scream that slipped out of her lips, before it was muffled against thick fabric. Her cheek pressed uncomfortably against someone's shoulder.

"Damn you Nym," a voice whispered, husky and tight. Dirty blond hair just missed brushing her face. "You gave me such a scare."

Zack, Nym thought. Not Regulus. Zack. Her life wasn't over. No one was going to hurt her, bully her, curse her. She relaxed, letting her shoulder rest a little against his shoulder, which heaved from his heavy breathing. She was panting too, but she caught her breath quickly. When she trusted herself to speak without her voice quavering, she stepped back from him. "I thought boys didn't get all sentimental like that."

Somehow, his blush made her feel better. "I wasn't getting sentimental. I was…" Nym nodded as though he was making perfect sense. Zack stopped, looked up at the sky, and went even redder, if such a thing were possible.

"Where were we going?"

"What? Oh. You sure you want to go there still? You're okay and all?"

Nym smiled at his concern. Boys didn't get sentimental. Right. "I'm fine. I was just a bit scared. I'd prefer it if you didn't talk about it."

Unfortunately, that seemed a little too much to ask. "I mean, I know Regulus had got it in for you. You only have to see how he looks at you to know that. I thought, I dunno, I thought you were scared of him." Like everyone else, his voice said. "But then you just… jeez, Nym, where'd you learn that?"

Nym bit her lip, unsure of how to answer. Zack was her friend. She trusted him, really she did. Yet she found herself oddly reluctant to tell him about this. "Well, that is…" and it all came out in a breathless rush. "Remus and James and Sirius have been teaching me. Ever since Regulus really starting picking on me in January. They've been teaching me all sorts of stuff, helping me out with my homework, stuff like that. Only please don't tell anyone. Promise."

"Promise," Zack said, doing something funny with his two index fingers. Nym vaguely remembered doing something like that in primary school when she and her friends had made secret pacts. Then he whistled. "You mean Potter and Black and Lupin, don't you? Of course you do." He shook his head and whistled again. "Man, those guys are incredible. Coolest guys in school, top in all their classes." He paused. "Seventh years."

"So?" Nym asked. Sure, they were all those things. But they were more than that. They were Prongs and Padfoot and Mooney, Marauders. They were like Nym's big brothers.

"Nym, they're big league. Amazing, you know? They're…" he shrugged, unable to find the words. "That's like being personal friends with the queen or something."

"They aren't like that," Nym protested. "They aren't stuck up or anything." Well, James and Sirius sort of were, she conceded, but that was natural arrogance. It had nothing to do with James's position as Head Boy or anything like that. More like natural talent, and a knowledge of it. "You never seemed that impressed with them before."

"I didn't think… I dunno. Anyway, here we are."

Nym wasn't sure what she'd expected, but this wasn't it. In a castle full of mysteries and old elegance, the door seemed out of place. Or perhaps just a bit too old. It's surface was pitted near the bottom, as though several someone's had kicked it, and the wood was warped and splintered. It was set in shadow, as though to hide its presence. Hooks were set above it, as though something had once hung over it to hide it further. Not that it was really needed. A more nondescript, uninteresting door Nym had never seen.

Zack opened the door to a wall of noise. Students sat on cushions or sagging armchairs, talking, laughing, playing cards or doing whatever else they seemed to feel like. "Hey everyone, Smith's got himself a girlfriend," one of them called. There were a few laughs around the room, and Nym felt herself flush. She wasn't his girlfriend, just his friend. Couldn't people understand that, or did they have to be immature?

"Guess that means you'll never have a chance with him, eh Ern?" There were a few more laughs this time, and the boy called Ern flushed a little.

"Come on Nym, they won't bite," Zack said, grinning at her as he entered the room, pulling her in with him. "Where's the hot chocolate, you lot?"

"Up your ass, Smith," Ern snapped.

"Then you'll have to kiss it if you want some, won't you?" Zack asked him with an malevolent grin.

"Um, Zack, maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Nym muttered.

Zack grinned at her, a kind, cheerful grin, completely unlike the one he'd sent Ern. "Relax, Nym, it's alright, really. Ern's a bit of a pill, but most of them are okay. Stay here with Jimmy and I'll find us some hot chocolate." He gave her a nudge towards a mended beanbag next to the second year Gryffindor. Jimmy nodded in greeting but kept playing his guitar, stopping every so often and shaking his head.

Zack soon returned bearing two chipped mugs, and settled into the huge beanbag next to her. "I can't believe you're nervous about this lot, not after facing up to Regulus," he commented quietly.

"That's different," Nym muttered. She wasn't really sure how, but it was. "What is this place?" she asked to change the subject.

"This," Zack said, waving the hand that didn't hold the mug expansively, "is the refuge of the second years. They're too young to go to Hogsmeade, but they're too old to be stupid little first years. They're not even teenagers yet."

"_I'm_ a stupid little first year," Nym muttered.

Zack looked surprised. "Oops, forgot about that." His grin returned. "But you don't exactly fit as the stupid little first year. I mean, you attacked Regulus. Most would have fainted in fright. And I think," he added, "you know more magic than most of the second years. So don't think like that."

Nym smiled at him, a little uncertainly. "So what're you doing here?"

Zack assumed a lofty air. "Associating with the lower classes of course. It is trying, but it must be done." Then his smile was back. "Really, I just like it here. None of that 'did you hear about this guy and that girl' and 'what is she thinking, wearing that?'" He shook his head ruefully. "I really shouldn't talk about my year like that, but most of them are just a little too much to stand."

Jimmy murmured something, and Nym turned towards him to hear better. Whatever he'd been saying, though, he was done, and had turned back to his guitar. Zack shook his head. "I dunno why he doesn't practice in his dorm. It's probably quieter there." But Nym wasn't listening to him. She stared at the little grey body curled in Jimmy's lap, apparently asleep.

"Jimmy?" she asked. The boy turned towards her, apparently startled at being addressed. He didn't say anything, though. "Where… where did you find that kitten?"

"She follows me around sometimes." His fingers stroked the grey hair lovingly. "I think she's a bit lonely. I've never seen her with an owner."

Nym flushed. She was so unused to having a pet, the kitten sometimes slipped her mind. Not that that was any excuse, and if anything it made her feel worse. "She's mine," she muttered, flushing to the roots of her hair. "My dad gave her to me for Christmas, but I've been so busy and all…" there was no excusing what she did to her little pet.

"What's her name?" Jimmy asked. He didn't seem to mind that she didn't pay attention to the kitten. If anything, Nym would have said he hadn't really listened to her. "I call her Morwyn."

"She doesn't have a name. But Morwyn sounds nice." She wasn't even sure Jimmy heard her.


	11. Hard Lessons

_Alright now, let's see... I had something I wanted to say at one point. Hmm... It'll come back to me. Anyway, sorry it's taking so long to get this thing up. Between my original stories, schoolwork and lack of motivation... but no excuses. Here it is, in all its glory. To all of you who asked, of course I'll be writing more!! (It's just taking forever) I'm so sorry it's taking so long._

* * *

"I just don't get it," Rick said. He wasn't looking at her, but Nym knew he was talking to her. There was no one else around, anyway. "I just don't get it." 

"Which, your homework or Mandy?" Nym asked, looking up from the book she was reading. Remus had sent home for what seemed a whole trunk full of his old school books, which he'd given her. He'd decided that her lessons needed more structure, and had set about giving it to her. Now she was assigned readings, research, even essays for the lessons he, Sirius and James gave her. He'd actually seriously suggested they submit her grades to Professor Dumbledore for extra credit. Thankfully James had squashed that idea. 

"Neither. Both." 

"What is there not to get?" Nym asked. She wasn't really paying attention, though. Remus had set her an essay on dementors – no less than three feet! – that she was no where close to completing. He had to be the toughest teacher she had. Not that she minded, really. She learned so much, and all of it fascinating. And it was all way above first-year level, so she had an easier time on what her teachers assigned. But still, three whole feet! 

"Not that you really care," Rick sighed. Really, Nym didn't. Why did dementors have to be so difficult? Rick was always going on about how much harder second year work was than first year. She didn't care that their blood was black, but she dutifully noted it anyway. Mandy was one of his best friends, but he fought with her all the time anyway. She said he tried to be too much like an older brother, and she already had one of those. Nym stroked Morwyn's fur absently. She'd made an effort to pay more attention to her pet, and between her attention and Jimmy's the feline was growing into the sweetest animal she'd ever encountered. What was it with dementors and souls? Couldn't they like roast mutton instead? 

"Are you even listening to me?" 

"Sure. You don't get neither Mandy nor your homework, and both of them." She wasn't sure that made any sense, but it seemed to be the gist of what he'd been going on about. 

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Nym? You're the greatest friend a guy could ask for, but you're such a bloody trial."   
"I do try." Except to listen to him, in which case she tried not to. 

"But sometimes I wonder just how sympathetic you really are." 

"It never changes." From just about not at all. 

"Nym, there you are. Oh, it's you." Mandy had arrived, and as always when she and Rick were fighting, had started up the row again. 

"Take yourself off, Mandy, no one wants you around here."   
"Nym does, don't you Nym?" 

"You can both take yourselves off as far as I'm concerned." Nym had tried to get them to stop arguing before, and it never seemed to work. Insulting them equally seemed about the only way to go, and even it was a rocky road. 

"You heard her. You're not wanted, Rick. Get lost."   
"You must have heard wrong. It's you that's not wanted."   
"Shut up, both of you. What do you want, Mandy, I have better things to do." 

Suddenly Mandy left off glaring at Rick. He might as well not have existed, but it was still an improvement. "Have you finished that essay for Professor Tofty?" 

"Yeah."   
"Could I borrow it? I promise not to copy. I just need another inch."   
"Already handed it in, sorry." 

Mandy huffed and stormed out of the library. Nym hoped she was never as bipolar as Mandy. One person like that was quite enough. If only it was just one person. 

"You've been with that Hufflepuff boy again, haven't you?" Rose scolded when Nym entered the dormitory. The 'Lion Grlz' were all gathered on Hope's bed – the one farthest from Nym's – reading Teen Witch Weekly. "Have you no House pride?"   
"It went out the window when I met some of my House mates," Nym said acidly. They ignored it. 

"At least he's kind of cute," Hope giggled. "Unlike some others." She gave Mary a look that seemed to carry a great deal of scorn. Mary flushed, and the other girls giggled. 

"You could at least hang out with someone from our House."   
"Like who?" Nym demanded. "Heaven forbid you four." 

"Well, maybe one of the boys?" Opal suggested a little too innocently. "I mean, you seem to be friends with lots of them."   
Nym wanted nothing to do with the three first year Gryffindor boys. Battle lines were drawn in their dormitory – actually chalked on the floor, rigged with jinxes and curses should anyone cross them. Nym knew, having walked in there one day looking for Morwyn. She'd meant to go to the second year's room, thinking the kitten might be with Jimmy, but she'd forgotten her mission in her haste to escape the full fledged war. The three boys hated each other, and anyone who was stupid enough to associate with one was just inviting trouble. 

She didn't say anything, though. There was no telling what the other girls would try. To Nym, it seemed that they'd decided that since they were capable of reading Teen Witch, they had decided they really were teens, and should try to act just like the girls in the magazine. Which seemed to involve wearing lots of make up, fussing over clothes, and making boys' lives misery.   
"Honestly, Nym," Rose said. "Just because you like him is no reason for you to follow him around like a lost puppy. He should be coming to you." 

Momentarily, Nym was confused. Sure, she liked Rick, but as a friend only. She was more likely to have a romantic interest in Sirius. Yeah right. She was eleven years old, scrawny, brainy, and antisocial. And clumsy, she thought peevishly as she backed towards her bed and tripped over a book someone had left lying around. Dead clumsy. 

While she was fighting to regain her balance, Nym finally noticed what had been bothering her since she'd come in. The curtains around the other girls' beds seemed to have faded from their royal red. To pink and purple. Of course, Nym thought glumly. Pink was the new… something or other. Red, maybe, or black. Or orange, or magenta, or rose or something. At least they hadn't changed hers 'to match'. 

"Nymphadora?" Evans poked her head in. Great, Nym thought, just what I don't need. Evans smiled at her. "Sirius said you were up here. He'd like to see you." She shook her head wryly. "It's a mystery to me how he seems to always know where everyone is." Nym had noticed that too, but it didn't bother her as much as it once had. There were lots of uncanny things about Sirius – and James, and particularly Remus – but that was part of what made them so great. 

"I'm coming," Nym grumbled, grabbing her cloak. Whatever Sirius wanted, you could bet it involved a trip to somewhere cold and drafty, or out into the snow. 

Remus pounced on her when she stepped into the common room. "Come on, Nym, let's get going. Do you have a cloak?" Nym held it up. Remus laughed. "Of course. You learn." 

"Remus, you should know that Sirius is expecting to see her. She should at least see what he wants before you drag her off," Evans said. 

"That's where I'm taking her," Remus said absently. "Come on." 

The ground outside was a soggy kind of frozen, like a bog that wasn't really sure it believed all that stuff about winter. Remus moved across it confidently, but Nym worried that if she miss-stepped she'd even up with soaked stockings and soggy shoes. She pulled her cloak close about herself as she hurried after him along the shore of the lake. The biting wind – who knew it was winter, whatever the ground might think – cut through anyway, chilling her. Remus didn't seem to notice, and strode ahead with his cloak free and snapping behind him. 

Nym glanced at the lake, worried that whatever the boys had planned might somehow involve it. She didn't want anything to do with the lake, or the squid – which all the kids in the older years assured her was great fun to tease, although Nym didn't believe a word of it – or anything else in the cold, dark depths. A shadow under the thin ice that had formed over the shallower parts moved, and Nym unconsciously quickened her pace. She hated the lake. Every time she looked at it she felt chilled, as though she was once again drowning in its icy waters. 

Remus was still walking ahead, but now he was moving away from the lake shore, moving at a tangent into the skeletal trees of the Forbidden Forest. Nym paused nervously. The Forbidden Forest was, well, forbidden. Especially to first years. And probably for good reason. But, then again, she thought, she was with Remus. And he was quite possibly as dangerous as anything in the Forest. He just kept his fangs hidden most of the time. A glance back at the lake decided her. She hurried forward and caught up to Remus. As she matched his pace, he glanced down at her. 

"That's my Nym," he said with what he seemed to think was an encouraging smile. Perhaps it was just the Forest, but it seemed rather too wolf-like to Nym. "Fearless, even of the old Forest." His smile, which took in the stark trees, was much softer, more distant. He began to whistle a strange little tune, jovial yet haunting. 

It wasn't much farther in when they saw Sirius and James at a campfire in a little depression that Nym was sure shouldn't have been able to hide them up to that point. "That's what you dragged me out here for?" she asked, going to stand next to the fire. "A campfire roast?" On a little spit – who knew where they'd got it – sausages were rotating slowly, colored a strange almost-black by the magical flames. 

"Something wrong with that?" James asked, inspecting the sausages critically. "I think you've over cooked them, Padfoot."   
"You were the one cooking," Sirius said. He brought out a school bag – Wormtail's, Nym thought – and pulled hot dog buns and a thermos of tea out of it. "It's really amazing what those kitchen elves can come up with," he commented as he poured some steaming tea into a dented tin mug, which he passed to Nym. 

Remus pulled out his wand and conjured three large armchairs, then a little ladder back stool. "For the cook who burned our food," he said to Nym with a wink. James and Sirius both dived at the empty armchair. After a brief tussle, Sirius was left sitting in wet snow. 

With a look of great injured dignity, he served the sausages and buns and the seated himself on the little stool. "If sirs and miss need anything, they has only to ask. Paddy is here to serve sirs and miss." 

"Well…" said Remus slowly, " I think, perhaps…" he glanced at James, "don't you?" 

"Oh yes," James said with a small, rather malicious smile. Nym remembered that smile. It was the one he wore when he saw Snivellus rounding the corner with his head in the clouds. "I think that would be very appropriate." 

"Don't you even think for a moment that…" Sirius began, but Remus cut him off. 

"House elves must not contradict, Paddy. Punishment is in order, I think. Dance for us, Paddy." 

Sirius dived at him. "Dance yourself, you great flea bag." The chair flipped over, depositing them both in the snow. Caught up watching them, Nym only barely saw James wave his wand, muttering something she could just make out. She turned quickly, wondering what he could be doing. 

James saw her looking, and grinned, his eyes flickering to the little stool that had replaced the tipped armchair. Nym grinned in return. If they weren't playing tricks on other people, they'd always have each other for amusement, these three. And Wormtail, she supposed, where ever he was. She didn't particularly like him. Too rat like. 

Sirius, victorious, ran to claim the armchair, and tripped over one of the stools as he went. He blinked for a moment, uncomprehending, before hauling James out of his own chair. When all three were occupied with their little fight, Nym looked at James's chair. It hadn't seemed so hard for him to change it. All he'd done was flick his wand like this… and what he'd said had sounded something like… 

Nym screamed as a tree erupted from where the chair had stood. It jerked the boys out of their private world quickly. They grabbed their wands and turned about, scanning the trees for the intruder. Nym huddled in her chair, not seeing anything. Her wand dropped from her limp fingers. 

"Nym?" James said after a time. "Did you do that?" 

Nym, her face pale, nodded almost imperceptibly. "I think so." She wasn't sure he could hear the words. Perhaps she hadn't even said them. She'd transfigured a chair, alright. But not into another chair. What could she have done wrong. It had seemed so simple when James did it. 

"That's sixth year transfiguration, at least," Remus murmured. "We've only got you up to, what would you say James, third?"   
"Half way through third, maybe," James said, "but we skipped a lot. Where did you learn to do that, Nym?" 

"I… I didn't," Nym said faintly. She couldn't take her eyes off the tree. "I tried to copy you. When you changed the other one. I just moved my wand like this and…" 

"Woa," Sirius said, snatching the wand out of her hand with surprising speed. "Don't wave that thing around like that. No one ever tell you the havoc you can wreck like that?" 

Nym reddened a little. Yes, she'd been warned. She was just so flustered. "Don't worry, Nym," Remus said kindly. "It happens. It just isn't normally so… spectacular." He inspected the tree. "What would you say, beech or oak?" 

"Does it matter?" James asked. "The trogg will be happy." 

"The what?" Nym asked. 

James hardly seemed to hear, but he answered anyway. "The trogg. Little thing, sort of like a troll. This place belongs to it. Keeps it hidden, and so forth. Lets us use it. Did it a favor once." 

"I reckon we can give her the key, then. It probably won't mind," Sirius said. "Besides, we'll be gone next year. She might as well use it. See Nym, repeat after me." He whistled the same little tune Remus had been whistling before. Nym tried a few times, but couldn't whistle very well. "You'll get it, don't worry. It's a bit hard the first time." 

On the hike back to the castle for dinner as dusk fell, Nym realized none of the boys had ever answered her first question. "What were we doing out there, besides having a campfire?" 

The glances that were tossed back and forth between the other three could have meant anything. "Planning," Sirius said. 

"For what?" 

"We're going to stop a war." Nym took an involuntary breath. Surely they couldn't mean… 

"Or start one," Remus said dryly. 

_ Now, review, please! Best motivator there is, whatever you have to say!! (And damn if I don't need it)_   



	12. Growing Up

_AN: I know it's been a really long time since I updated, but I have been writing, I promise. It's just that my computer refuses to upload anything bigger than 5k, so it's tough to get this up. But here's four chapters for you. As always, don't forget to review. I appreciate them all :D_

"How come you're never around anymore?" Mandy asked, without looking up from her magazine. Nym tore her attention away from _Shapeshifter_, a text James had set her. It used a lot of strange terms she didn't really understand to try and explain why you could transfigure things. All in all, it seemed a waste of time, but James wouldn't be happy if she went back to him and said, 'well, I read some of it but it was boring, so I stopped'. In fact, he'd be a long, long way from happy.

"I've been busy."

"You're always busy." Which, as far as Nym was concerned, wasn't true. She had plenty of spare time on her hands. She just spent most of it flying, though Mandy might not know that, because since her first disastrous time on a broom, nothing would get her within a hundred yards of the broom shed. "Studying weird books or off being mysterious. Or flying with my dratted brother."

"Come on Mandy, you don't mean that." For the first time in several days spent studying with Mandy, Nym looked up at her friend. The other girl's short, curly pigtails were practically quivering in indignation.

"Just think I don't, Nym Tonks. On the rare occasion you come over to eat with me – and I do mean rare, it's been almost a month – you spend more time talking to him than to me. Like he was your best friend. Tell me Nym, do you actually like me or are you just trying to get close to my brother?" She threw down her magazine and pushed her face in close to Nym's. "Well?"

Nym considered her response carefully. She couldn't be sure which way Mandy would react because, truth be told, she hadn't actually talked to her that much lately. "I'm sorry Mandy. It isn't like that…"

She didn't get a chance to finish. "Oh, then how is it, then? Come on, tell me."

"I'm trying," Nym snapped, her temper getting the better of her. "If you'd just listen. I get really caught up in studying sometimes. I'm sorry. It's interesting. And…"

"And I'm not, is that what you were going to say? It's not that great, whatever you say. I've seen you. You threw one of them across the room yesterday, and tried to make like you hadn't. What're you trying to do, Nym, finish all seven years in one?"

"Would it be so bad if I was?" Nym demanded. Damn James, giving her boring books because he said they were 'essential, if boring'. Remus always found fascinating ones.

"It's all so much clearer now. You want to be all grown up. Oh look, it's Nym, with her perfect scores in advanced subjects and her third-year boyfriend. Oh isn't she so great?" Mandy finished in a hiss.

Nym was momentarily stunned. That was so completely wrong. It wasn't like that at all. Zack was her friend but… besides, he was Mandy's brother. How could she even think that?

"No. You want to know what it is? I'll tell you. I can't talk to anyone in my own House. The girls are a bunch of flaming nutters who giggle all the time and the boys have a war going on, and if you talk to one the other two will jinx you. All the other first years flinch away from me because I look like one of the bloody Slytherins, with all their pure-blood nonsense, even though I'm a Gryffindor. My mother has told me in no uncertain terms that if I set foot in her house before she says I can – which will be years, more than likely – she will disown me. Oh, and my cousin is trying to kill me. I think I have reason to be a little reclusive just now, alright?" Nym grabbed _Shapeshifter_and stormed out of the library, receiving a stern glare from Madam Pince for what was doubtless 'disorderly conduct'.

Everything she'd said to Mandy was true, and it was only the beginning. She'd received an owl from her mother the night before, telling her that it was probably best if she didn't come home, and her aunt would pick her up from the train station at the end of the year. Regulus was still out to get her, especially after her last run-in with him. Remus and James wanted her to help them reconcile the three Gryffindor first years – perhaps in hope of making a new set of Marauders to take over when they were gone, or maybe just because. She was always tired these days, and there was always so much work to do. And, of course, there was the ever present homework. There never seemed to be enough time, whatever she said to Mandy.

Now, without Mandy, she was pretty much alone. She found herself wandering through the corridors towards the nondescript little door that hid the second years' refuge. When her feet stopped in front of it, she hesitated. It was one thing to go in there with Zack. And what if Mandy thought she was trying to be all grown up again?

Stuff Mandy, she thought angrily, shoving into the room. It was much quieter than it had been the last time she was there, with only a few students curled up in various armchairs. Everyone was minding their own business, reading or studying or talking quietly.

"Oh look, it's one of the Gryffindor girls," a girl sneered. Well, it had been quiet. The noise level in the room, already low, seemed to plummet below zero as everyone's eyes fixed on her. Just what she didn't need right now. "Come to grace us with your presence, Gryffindolt?" Nym tried to ignore the girls snickering around the speaker. 

"It wasn't my intention," Nym sighed quietly, "but consider yourselves graced." She headed toward an empty corner where a few overstuffed armchairs awaited her. A wad of paper connecting with the back of her skull stopped her.

"Too good for us, Gryffindolt?" the girl jeered. "Or are you afraid?"

Nym sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She really needed to cut it, she thought absently, before turning to face the girls. When she answered it was in what she called a 'Lupin-mild' voice. Remus never got into arguments, because he just quietly agreed with everything then got back at people later. "Perhaps."

"Ooh, little Gryffindolt is scared," the girl sneered. Nym repressed the urge to sigh. Some people were a few bricks short of a load, and she could forgive it, but this girl seemed to be lacking the wheelbarrow too.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked tiredly, as though staring at nothing would be more interesting than this conversation. Maybe Remus could keep up that submissive tone, she certainly couldn't.

"'Are you finished yet?'" the girl mimicked. "No I'm not finished. You wanna make something of it?"

"Not really?" Nym turned away to go back to corner, slipping her wand from her sleeve when she was sure the movement would be hidden. There was no reason to think this girl would be so brash as to try and hex her, but then, she hadn't thought Sirius would during his lectures. He sounded like that old bat that had guest lectured in Defense Against the Dark Arts. 'Constant Vigilance!' Then again, there was no reason to think the girl wouldn't try.

Nym dropped as soon as she heard the girl start to speak again, feeling the energy from the spell crackle her hair as it shot over her head. She spun, thinking desperately. While she probably could have taken this girl is a duel, she was already disadvantaged, not to mention hopelessly outnumbered.

When she opened her mouth it was a shield spell that came out, surrounding her in a filmy blue bubble. It wouldn't block anything really strong – Sirius had broken it with a simple bodybinder, albeit one with a lot of power behind it – but it should hold for anything this lot threw at her. Should being the operative word.

"Leave me alone," she said firmly.

"Or what?" the girl challenged. Nym didn't answer. She'd already broken half the rules Sirius had pounded into her – don't trade insults, don't antagonize, Constant Vigilance! and so forth. Breaking the other half could land her in serious trouble. 'You'll be a great Auror one day, Nym,' he'd said. It was his personal dream for her, and truth be told she was more open to it than her mother's plan for her to be a secretary. 'I just have to make sure you stay alive long enough.'

Nym walked to the corner, the glowing bubble keeping pace. If only there was some way she could hold it up and still perform spells. But no, it was purely for defense against small magics, like tickling charms or jelly legs. It probably wouldn't keep out a proper biting teakettle, never mind something really dangerous.

Safely tucked into her corner, Nym released the spell and opened _Shapeshifter_. She was hidden behind the chair backs, so she was safe. "Are you alright?" a voice asked. Nym looked up to find a boy and a girl her own age watching her warily. She thought she recognized the girl as a Hufflepuff from her Charms class. The boy was… Nym felt sick to her stomach. She didn't want to get involved with the first year Gryffindor boys, not until she had to.

"Yes," Nym said with a sigh. "I just wish they wouldn't do that."

The girl looked sympathetic. "I know what you mean. They do it to me all the time, just cause I'm a half-blood."

"Shut up," the boy snapped. "For all you know she could be a Slytherin too. Certainly looks like one," he added, eyeing Nym mistrustfully.

"Look at the tie, stupid," Nym snapped. "I'm a Gryffindor like you, as you'd know if you weren't so caught up in your stupid war."

"It's not stupid," the boy snapped. "It's serious and…" Whatever else he had been meaning to say was cut off when an inkbottle hit the wall above Nym's head, showering her with black ink and covering the pages of _Shapeshifter_. As Nym lifted the book, the pages seemed to pulse for a second before absorbing the ink, looking no more damaged than before. The same could not be said of Nym.

She stood, pulling out her wand. The girl who had tried to hex her before wore a satisfied smirk, and some of her friends were laughing. Some of the other occupants in the room looked about ready to go for help, or dive for cover.

Suddenly the girl began to scream. Nym grinned. It had been difficult, learning to do magic without saying the words, and it went wrong as often as not, but fortunately it had worked this time. She hadn't wanted to hurt the girl – James had been quite clear on the punishment of getting caught doing something like that – but a good scare had seemed in order. Now the arms of the chair were wrapped around the blond girl in a crushing hug, like something out of that animated muggle movie she'd watched when she was little. The girl's wand lay on the floor, well out of reach.

She hadn't managed the proper spell, of course. That was far beyond her. But ever since she'd seen Professor Flitwick charm the armchair to ballroom dance, she'd wanted to learn. Thanks to Remus, she could make it take it's partner (in this case the girl, rather than the lamp stand Flitwick had used), and right now that was all that seemed necessary.

One of the girl's friends sent a stunning spell at the chair. It obviously wasn't very strong, because the chair kept moving, if slowly, but now it seemed to be crushing the girl in a vice grip.

"What is going on here?" demanded a voice, and Nym bolted for the corner. The freezing spell caught her anyway, and she froze, her feet stuck to the floor. "Well, well, well," Regulus sneered. "What have we caught here?"

Nym inhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. This just kept getting worse. "When they sent a prefect down here to see what was going on…" Regulus pushed his greasy face closer to hers.

"They should have sent someone more responsible," a clear voice interrupted. Evans's bright eyes glittered dangerously as she took in the blond Slytherin still struggling against her chair, her friend panicking around her, and Regulus with his wand pointed at an immobilized Nym's heart. Nym had never been so glad to see Evans as she was right at that moment. "When we are sent to deal in disciplinary issues, Master Black, we are not to aggravate matters further, whatever our personal vendettas." The last was said in a angry hiss. "Release her." Regulus didn't move. "I said release her, or I'll have you released from your duties as prefect." Regulus stepped away and removed the spell, his glare promising retribution. "Now, will someone tell me what's going on here?"

The blond Slytherin chose that moment to start screaming. "Help me, help! Look what that little bitch did to me! Aren't you going to do anything?! Help!" Frowning, Lily sent a stunning spell at the chair, which obediently froze, though the girl was still caught in it's upholstered arms.

"Anyone?" Evans asked. "You." She pointed to the little Hufflepuff girl who had crept out of her chair in the corner to watch the proceedings. "What's your name? House? What happened here?"

"Jen Goshawk, miss. Hufflepuff. Umm…" she hesitated.

Evans's face softened. "I'm sorry I snapped. Please tell us what happened."

Goshawk looked a little less frightened, but not much. "She," she pointed to Nym, "came in, and that girl started making fun of her." She pointed to the Slytherin. "Called her a Gryffindolt and stuff like that. Then she," the finger transferred to Nym again, "said she didn't want to fight, just leave her alone. And she started walking away, until she," back to the Slytherin girl, "tried to hex her. But she ducked, and then made this bubble thing that sparked when they pointed their wands at it, and she went and sat down." She sounded breathless, as though terrified, or perhaps awed. "And I asked if she was alright, and she said she was, and my brother said she could be a Slytherin, and she said no, she was a Gryffindor, and he'd know that if he wasn't so caught up in his stupid war."

"Hey," the boy protested.

"I'm just repeating what she said," Jen snapped at him. Whatever her qualms around the Head Girl, she had no trouble putting her brother in his place. "And she's right. Anyway, then this bottle of ink hit the wall behind her and she got covered in it, her book and the chair too, so she stood up and suddenly that girl was screaming 'cause her chair was trying to eat her or something."

"And then we arrived?" Evans asked gently. Goshawk nodded. "Thank you. Let's see this book, Tonks." Nym obediently went to fetch it. She was going to get out of this with a whole skin. Maybe, if it had been James who came instead of Evans, she might even have had some small revenge too, but she didn't expect Evans to play favorites. The girl was just too fair.

She put the tome in Evans's hands. "Rather heavy reading for a first year," Regulus commented acidly. "Forbidden, some might say."

Evans flipped through it. "They have this in the Restricted Section?" she asked absently. "Why?"

"Dangerous," Regulus said with a knowing nod.

"Really." For such a prat, Evans managed a sarcastic drawl that could challenge any of Sirius's. "How so?"

Regulus shrugged uncomfortably. "I wouldn't know. That's just what I was told."

"I see. By whom, if I might inquire?"

"Er… the librarian."

Evans nodded, as though enlightenment was slowly dawning on her. "Because you asked her about it, am I right? Obviously," she added with a frown, "without approval from a teacher, or she wouldn't have told you it was dangerous. Am I right?"

"We're not discussing me," Regulus said quickly.

"Perhaps we should," Evans shot back. "But that can wait. Be sure I'll bring it up at my meeting with Dumbledore, though. If you don't clean up your act soon, Mr. Black, Slytherin may be looking for a new prefect by the end of the year." She snapped the book closed. "If this was in the Restricted Section, Tonks, how did you get it out?"

"I didn't," Nym said with perfect truthfulness. Maybe it came from the Restricted Section, maybe not. She did wish James had told her if it did, so she could avoid getting caught with it.

"Obviously you did, you little rat, or else you wouldn't have it," Regulus snapped.

"Mr. Black," Evans said warningly. "Very well, Tonks. How did you get it? I must confess the circumstances are a little bit suspect."

"It was given to me." Nym locked her jaw shut. James wouldn't thank her for getting him in trouble with his girlfriend.

"By who?" Regulus demanded.

"Whom, Mr. Black, not who," Evans said absently. "It doesn't really matter, anyway. It's not a library book. It belongs to a student, or perhaps a teacher, but certainly not the Restricted Section." The look she sent Nym was piercing. Oh god, Nym thought, she knows.

"Maybe she stole it."

"I highly doubt that, Mr. Black. And you have nothing but your suspicions, wrong headed as they seem to be. Now," she surveyed the assembled students, all of whom had been watching avidly. "I shall be speaking with the heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. Mr. Black, if you would be so good as to deliver the young lady in the chair to Professor Tofty, I'm sure he can sort her out. If, however, I find that you've tried to avoid delivering her _exactly as is_, I will have your prefect badge by supper tonight. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Black?"

"Yes Evans," Regulus sneered.

"You two," she pointed to Nym and the Goshawk boy, "come with me." Nym and both the Goshawk children followed Evans out of the room, where Jen offered a hasty goodbye to her brother as disappeared quickly down the hall. Nym and the boy followed Evans's billowing robes through the hallways towards Professor Prewett's office.

"Come," the professor called after Evans rapped sharply on the door. Nym felt her knees going weak. It was one thing for Remus to say the professor was fairly good about rule breaking, another altogether to have to test that tolerance.

Evans seated them each in one of the hardback chairs facing the desk with an imperiously pointed finger, then outlined the bare essentials of the story for the professor. She also, Nym noted, stressed that 'the teachers may wish to consider relieving Mr. Black of Slytherin House of his duties as a prefect'. Prewett listened stoically, nodding occasionally and looking interested, though Nym thought his eyes looked a bit glazed, the way Mandy's always did in herbology.

"Thank you Miss Evans. Once again you have saved us considerable work. But you haven't yet told me why the young man is here." So perhaps he had been listening.

Evans mentioned what she'd heard about a war, and her concerns about how it might be affecting intra-house relations. This time, Nym was sure she saw the professor's eyes glaze. When Evans finished, the professor nodded. "Thank you Evans, I'll deal with them now."

When Evans had let herself out, Prewett shook his head wryly. "The school runs well under that girl's eye, but I do wish she wasn't so zealous about it. Still, I suppose we do need someone to balance out Potter. Now, Nym, would you mind telling me why you tried to – how did she say it? – have an armchair crush another student's ribs?"

"I didn't want to hurt her, professor," Nym said, studying the grain of the wooden desk. Tiny black dots covered a circle about the size of her palm, as though someone had sunk a red hot needle into the wood.

She saw the professor nodding sagely out of the corner of her eye. "You didn't want to hurt her. I see. So you…"

"Made it dance." Nym had never known her voice could be quite so small and timid. Please don't let them expel her. Oh why couldn't it have been James who came? She wouldn't be in this mess now. Of course, she might be facing Regulus still, but not this.

"Ah. Flitwick's ballroom-dancing chair. I thought as much. James taught you, did he?"

Nym squeaked in surprise. "No sir." The truth, if not all of it.

"Remus then. Interesting that he would teach you that one."

"Only because I asked, sir," Nym offered hesitantly.

Prewett didn't seem to have heard. "An excellent party trick, although I can't imagine Flitwick would have spent as much time developing it as he did for _that_. But then, I could be wrong. I trust your lessons are going well?"

"Yes sir, the professors…"

"I'm sure the professors are doing an admirable job. I meant the boys' tutoring sessions. They aren't pushing you too hard, are they?"

Nym swallowed the bile that seemed to have risen in her throat. No one was supposed to know about those lessons. "No sir. But, professor, how did you…"

"Know?" Now Prewett really did look at her, and Nym was reminded sharply of Dumbledore. They both had that kind of piercing stare that just seemed to draw things out of you. "They told me. James actually asked if I could give him extra credit for it." He chuckled. "Sadly, I cannot, though I'm sure it will help him for his Auror exam, which should be enough for him. From the sound of it, Sirius is using you for review as well." He must have caught Nym's startled look, because he went on, although his mild tone didn't change a hair. "It's good for them to break it down like that. Helps them understand it. Everything always came too easily to those two. And Remus, of course, but that never stopped him doing the work. Have him do some more potions with you. Tofty's leaving next year, and from the sound of it, his successor will not be… kindly disposed towards Gryffindors."

Nym was shocked enough to forget her shyness. "Where's he going?"

"Professor Tofty has accepted a position with the ministry to regulate education. Perhaps you'll see him again when you do your OWLs and NEWTs."

He pushed _Shapeshifter_ across the table towards Nym. "Don't let Evans know I gave you that back, hmm? She'll have a fit, and I do need her to keep an eye on things for me. Can't do that if she's mad at me." Nym took the book and cradled it in her lap. That was it then. He wasn't going to do anything to her.

Now the professor turned to the boy, who had sat silently through the entire exchange. "I don't believe I've had the opportunity to meet you, young man."

"Aren't you supposed to be my head of house?" the boy demanded. No wonder he and his roommates don't get along, Nym thought, if they're all like him.

Prewett didn't seem to notice. "I confess, I haven't had a chance to meet all my students this year. Circumstances have not been… conducive to it."

"You know her."

"She was brought to my attention because she nearly drowned in the lake. If you feel like copying her, I'm sure I'll know you too. Until then, may I inquire your name?" The professor was, to Nym's mind, being a little too carefully polite.

"Jason Goshawk," the boy said.

The professor nodded slowly. Sagely, Nym thought, a bit like the wise mentor in a play. A little too like, it seemed. She stared at Prewett a little more closely. Yes, he had that glazed look, like his gaze was turned inward instead of out to them, or as if he wasn't completely there. It was a lot like Mandy's blank looks in herbology, except that the professor still seemed to see everything that was going on, whereas it took several tries to get Mandy to respond to her own name. It occurred to her that maybe, for Prewett, this didn't really matter. He let Evans taken care of most of the daily business of Gryffindor, and most of the school too, and focused on something else. War, whispered a voice in her mind. It's always about that stupid war.

"I see," Prewett said slowly, from whatever great distance he had taken himself. "Tell me, Jack, during the course of your, er, 'war' was the word she used, wasn't it? – anyway, have you stopped any of your classmates going to class?"

"No professor. And it's Jason." Goshawk said it like a question.

Prewett didn't seem to hear. "You haven't sent either of them to the hospital wing? Nothing… contagious or lasting or any thing like that, have you?"

"No sir."

Suddenly Prewett was back, his eyes dancing merrily above his now grinning face. "I thought not. While I might wish you'd channel that energy into more constructive pursuits, I have to say I don't really care overmuch." He said it all with a delighted smile, as though he found this the greatest joke in the world, although neither Nym nor Goshawk was privy to it.

"Sir?"

"I'll let Evans deal with this, shall I?" Prewett asked Nym, still smiling merrily. The man's crazy, she thought as she nodded a little hesitantly. "Splendid. Keep up the good work and all that, Grasshawk. Be original. It'll help you with your school work." He smiled absently out the window. "Jelly legs is useful, but not all that interesting. You're dismissed. Goodbye Nym." The final look the professor sent her way as she stood was sharp as a knife, cutting through her.

"Goodbye professor," she murmured, scampering into the hall.

Oddly enough, Jason had decided to wait for her. He fell into step beside her as she headed back towards the Common Room. He seemed to be thinking of something, and Nym let him. Whatever nasty retribution he was planning on someone, she wanted no part of it.

"So you know a lot of good spells, do you?" he asked after a while. Almost absently, but Nym caught the keen glance he shot at her.

She didn't look at him, staring resolutely ahead as though there was nothing more interesting than walking through the corridors – although they were, actually, a lot more interesting than any other corridors she'd ever been in, being magic and all – and there were no undercurrents in the question. "Some." She said it as lightly as she could, but her stomach was going to come up any moment. It fit with Sirius and James's plans, but oh, how horrible it was to be caught in the middle and have no idea what was going to happen.

"Could you teach me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"You'll hurt people."

"No I won't. You didn't hurt that girl back there. I won't either."

"You'd hurt yourself."

"What, you think I couldn't do it?" A challenge. She'd gotten his back up. Dammit. She was supposed to guide him carefully, so he trusted her enough to follow her when it was time for whatever the Marauders had planned, but not so much that he tried to involve her. "You're only a first year too."

Well, there was nothing for it. If she messed this up, there was always Minetta to drag him in, though she didn't want to appear as the other girl here in Hogwarts. Questions might be asked. But that was all ifs and maybes. Right now, this boy was annoying her. "So? I've probably learned ten times as much as you have, and practiced a hundred times more, cause _I_ don't spend all _my _time on pointless feuds."

"Pointless? You think it's pointless. You don't know anything. None of you do. You'd never understand."

"What I understand is that you're wasting your time. There are people out there that would happily kill all of us, and all you care about is some… some stupid little spat. Wake up, you…" Nym fumbled with the half remembered words that she'd sometimes heard the older kids saying, the ones that would have her mother washing her mouth out if she uttered. "Oh, you stupid useless bastard. You, and the other two as well." She turned and stormed away.

_Just in case you forgot: **Review!!!**_


	13. April Fools

Hope Mochudi slipped furtively out of the boys' dormitory, pressing into the shadow of the wall. Her dark skin blended oddly with the deeper layers of shadow in the corners of the red wall, making her like a smudge in her dark robes. It wouldn't do to be seen here, so near the war zone. Before taking the final step off the stairway into the common room she glanced furtively around. Convinced no one was watching, she ducked around, into the common room then up the next stairwell to the girls' dormitories. There she paused for a moment, listening carefully, before letting herself into her room.

A great black dog awaited her, making a thick rug on Hope's bed. "Hope's allergic to just about everything with fur, you know," she said. The black mass wiggled slightly, as though in pleasure. Of course, she thought, that's probably why he chose that spot. She noted that his furry side, the part most likely to leave traces of that gorgeous black fur, was right on the pillow.

Hope peered into one of the vanity mirrors. Her face screwed up in an odd sort of concentrating grimace. Her skin lightened, her hair straightened and shaded from dark chocolate to raven, her eyes became lighter. With a shake of her head, Nym cleared her vision. "I suppose I'm lucky she doesn't wear glasses," she said with a sigh. "That would have been a give away for sure. As it was, I think the clothes were a little off."

Sirius, lounging on Hope's bed where the dog had been an instant before, shrugged unconcernedly. "She's a little older than you, I suppose. It happens. You could probably change it if you really wanted."

Nym frowned at him. She'd had the talk about growing up with her mother before coming, so she wasn't completely in the dark about puberty, but it wasn't something she particularly wanted to discuss with her cousin. As in, never. "Don't look at me like that," Sirius said. "You look like you're stuck in the middle of one of your transformations." Nym's scowl deepened. Here he was casually blabbing her secret. Just because there was no one around, didn't mean he could let his tongue go. "Anyway, I'm just saying. Oh, and next time, maybe do something about your ears. Mocha-dee always wears huge earrings."

"My ears aren't pierced."

"So pierce them."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause it's stupid to do that just so I can look like her."

"Bet you're scared."

"And you're not? Remus has a fang in his ear, and so does James. Even Peter has a stud. But not you."

Sirius scowled at her from under his mop of hair. "Alright. You win. No earrings. We're almost done anyway, right?"

Nym nodded. "Tuesday, seven sharp. They'll all be waiting."

Sirius's face split into a huge grin. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. You're a blessing Nym, you really are. A gift right direct from the gods of mischief."

Nym couldn't help but smile just a little at that. "You going to tell me your plan or what?"

"Or what. Come on, want to go for a celebratory drink at the Broomsticks?"

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend." Since the disastrous encounter with Zack, Nym had resolved never to go into town on a designated weekend again. At least, not until she was legitimately allowed.

"So? Come on, Nym, where's your sense of adventure gone?"

"It's not exactly an adventure. We've been there so often."

"Yeah. But Jamie-boy doesn't propose every time."

"What?" Nym yelped. "He's doing that today? I thought…"

"Less than an hour to go until the poor slob seals his own fate."

Nym's cloak shot into her hand almost fast enough for a casual observer to suspect magic. For once, it wasn't. "Can't leave him alone, then. Who knows what stupid thing he might try."

She hurried towards the secret passage, but Sirius caught her elbow and pulled her the other way, towards the main doors of the castle. "I can't go out that way," Nym protested. "I'll be seen."

"It's faster. Pull your cloak up and change on the way. Come on," he said impatiently as Nym paused to pull her cloak closer about her.

"Sorry, it's hard to run with a cloak pulled around you like this."

"Change quick then."

She followed Sirius, who ran most of the way down the road to the village. He slowed to a walk at the edge of town, allowing Nym to catch up. She leant over, breathing heavily. "What's the rush?"

"Sorry. Gotta find James."

They found him in near the Three Broomsticks, walking slowly with his arm around Evans. He paused near the fountain in the centre square. Nym spotted Remus and Peter lounging on opposite sides of the square. Remus was running his long fingers along his wand reflectively, and didn't seem quite as relaxed as he was trying to make out. Peter kept glancing around nervously, licking his lips. Although it was a cool spring day, the sort that Nym really loved with all its vagrant breezes and bright sunshine, sweat beaded on his forehead. James glanced up and caught sight of them. He raised an eyebrow, and Sirius gave him a thumbs up. James winked back. Evans didn't notice anything.

James stopped her, and turned her to face him. He said something, smiling strangely at Evans. If that's what love looks like, Nym thought wryly, I'm never falling for it. At the same moment, Sirius, Remus and Peter raised their wands. The water in the fountain shot up, turning all the brilliant colors of the rainbow so it fell, scintillating, around the square. Peter and Remus each kicked a crate near their feet, releasing multicolored streams that shot up and flew in a cyclone around James and Evans. Through the wash of color, Nym could see James kneeling, holding something up to Evans and saying something earnestly. She was smiling down at him, and Nym thought she might be crying. Batty, the both of them.

The multicolored streams resolved themselves into leprechauns, which floated above the square, raining gold down on the stunned watchers. James stood up and kissed Lily. Sirius gave a whoop and bounded towards the couple, grinning from ear to ear. Nym followed more sedately. She would never, ever understand James, or Sirius for that matter.

Evans was smiling shyly, but seemed radiantly happy. James's grin was even broader than Sirius's. Nym was about to say something before remembering that Evans had never met Min Nigellus. The same thought seemed to occur to Remus, who had come up to join the group. The fountain was slowly shrinking back to its original size, but now the multicolored water was actually wet, and all around them people were getting soaked. A clear rain shield hovered above James and Evans, so that the water splashed around the dry island that the group stood in.

"Evans, this is Min Nigellus, Sirius's cousin. Which he'd remember," he added scathingly for Sirius's benefit, "if he wasn't so eager to congratulate you both." He laughed, and Sirius shrugged happily.

"Yeah, well, about time, James."

James laughed too. "Thanks guys."

They said a few more pleasantries, then James and Evans wandered off hand in hand. "You know," Peter said thoughtfully, "that was really a lot of fun. We should do stuff like that more often."

"How many times do you think James is going to propose?" Sirius said snidely. Peter shrugged, going red.

"I just meant, the colors and stuff. You know. A lot of people seemed to think it was really pretty."

"Did they really," Remus commented absently.

"Yeah. And I was thinking, I dunno, we could do it as a business after we graduate."

"There's an idea." Remus didn't even seem to be listening.

"Sorry dude." Sirius, it seemed, was. "Moony's gonna be a teacher, and Prongs and me got our sights on being Aurors."

"Well," said Peter, decisive for once in his life, "I think that's what I'll do."

"I think," Remus said slowly, "that perhaps we should give you a bit of practice then. Tell me, Paddy, what day is it?"

Sirius stopped, counting on his fingers. "Why, I do believe it's April first." A slow grin spread on his face, almost equal to the silly one James had been wearing. "Yes, I do believe pretty colors are in order. What do you say, Min?"

Nym pretended to think about it for a minute. It sounded like a lot more fun than that stupid scheme with the first year boys. "On one condition."

"What?" Peter sounded mistrustful. He probably thought it was going to be something stupid. Nym didn't particularly care what he thought. Peter was a tub of annoying lard anyway.

"Well, see, the way I figure it, we should be doing good deeds, you know? Helping people out. So I was thinking… you know that little bar behind the Hogshead? The one that no one ever goes into?"

"What, you want to help get them some business?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Shut up and hear me out," Nym snapped. "That one – what's it called, the Two Broomsticks or something? – had to be done in purple. With rainbows, if possible."

"Um… Min, you know what that signifies, don't you?" Remus said a bit uncertainly. A slow smile was spreading on Sirius's face, though he still looked a bit mystified.

"Yeah. Well, I just thought, you know, a gay bar should have some advertising. You know, be proud, like those muggles in America are always saying."

Sirius was laughing out loud now. Remus was grinning widely. Even Peter was smiling a bit hesitantly. "I like it. No, scratch that, I love it," Sirius said. "But how do you know it's a gay bar. _I _didn't even know that."

"I, um, went in to use the loo one day." Nym felt herself flushing. Dammit, it was so easy to see her blush with this color skin. Her normal pale cheeks hardly even turned rosy.

Sirius stopped grinning suddenly. "Wait. Did you say it was called the…. Eeww. That's just nasty." Min nodded. "Well," Sirius took a deep breath, "I guess we should give them a big sign to go with their purple walls."

"You can do that, thank you," Remus said tartly. "Personally, I find it rather disgusting." Peter didn't say anything.

"So how are we going to do this? I mean, people will know something's up if we go around waving our wands and buildings turn all sorts of colors around us." Nym asked.

"Well," Sirius looked a bit uncertain. "We could put a time delay on the spells…"

Remus shook his head. "Not a chance. Two reasons." He held up two of his long grey fingers. "One, Min can't do it. She doesn't know anything like that yet. Peter can't do it either, except by fluke. Two, that's too much magic. It leaves residue."

"Which means…?" Peter asked.

"It can be traced. And it's more fun if you don't get caught."

"We will make them hard to take off, though, won't we?" Peter asked anxiously.

"Sure." Remus shrugged. "That's easy enough. I'll let the rest of you decorate, and I'll do that."

"We still haven't decided how we'll do it," Nym pointed out.

"Aren't you the voice of sweet reason," Sirius said peevishly. "This is too complicated for me."

Remus waved a dismissive hand. "Leave it. Although… have we shown Min the view from the clock tower yet? It's really quite impressive." His sly grin left no doubt as to his plans once they got up there.

"You're brilliant, Moony. Whatever would we do without you?"

"Fail?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

As they climbed down the stairs from the clock tower some hours later, Nym couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Hogsmeade. It was positively festive. They'd done out more than half the buildings in the village in brilliant colors. Some were gathering rather large crowds. The Shrieking Shack was a vibrant yellow, painted with sinister looking black shapes that resembled all manner of monsters. The Three Broomsticks, Nym's personal project, had windows that changed colors every time the door opened. There were a couple of third years opening and closing the door just to see them change, and maybe trying to guess what color came next. But the biggest crowd was around the Two Broomsticks, where several people were pointing and laughing at Sirius's highly suggestive sign. Apparently he'd had no hesitation about turning the name of the place into the colorful metaphor that had so disturbed him earlier. It looked the pub had closed down early.

"Now, how about that celebratory drink?" Sirius asked.


	14. Plans

It has been said that there are some things that cannot happen to people without turning them into friends. This was the essence of Sirius's plan concerning the three first year Gryffindor boys. At seven o'clock on Tuesday, April fourth, each made his way towards a different classroom where they believed their secret allies would be waiting. Nym, in whatever guise she had taken for each, was not. Rather, Sirius, Remus and James each waited in one of the classrooms, and stunned the poor first year the moment he opened the door.

It did not go off without a few hitches, however. Peter was the biggest, demanding to know where the other three were going without him. If Nym could come along, why not he? He was better than any first year, for all that first year was better at most charms and transfigurations than he was. But then, that was to be expected. James, Sirius, and Remus had only helped Peter with his homework; they had taught Nym from the first, and she had proven a far better student than Peter could ever have been.

The other hitch was Snivellus, who had followed James in the hope of getting him in trouble. He opened the door to the room where James was hiding and James, thinking it was the first year, had stunned him. Nym had been given the task of disposing of him, however she thought best. So, with the limp form of Snivellus dragging magically behind her covered in James's invisibility cloak, she made her way down to the dungeons near the Slytherin common room. There she'd left Snivellus with a charm on him so he smelled of wine fumes, and what had once been a rock but was now a whisky bottle. He'd wake up eventually, and he'd seem drunk enough for anyone who didn't care to look too closely, she thought. Then she made her way to one of the secret rooms that abounded in the castle to find the boys waiting for them, each with their hostage.

"You got rid of Snivellus?" James asked.

"What? He was following you again?" Sirius demanded.

"Pax, Paddy," James said. "He's been dealt with." He raised a questioning eyebrow to Nym, who nodded.

"Anyone who finds him will think he's been in the bottle a bit too much."

Sirius laughed at that, and even Remus chuckled a little.  "Well done, young one."

They left the room, Remus flicking a few spells as they did so. They went into the next room, not so secret as the last but right next door and settled into the large armchairs that awaited them. A large section of one wall had been charmed to show the scene next door. James looked at it appreciatively. "You know, Moony, next thing you'll be making places like Hogwarts. I doubt even Dumbledore could get one that clear."

Remus laughed, but brushed away the compliment. "It took four of the greatest wizards ever to build even a fraction of Hogwarts. I'd be hard put to reproduce one of the bathrooms, never mind the whole castle." Privately, Nym agreed with James. Remus was an amazing wizard, though he rarely did anything as big or obvious as Sirius or James.

They watched as the three boys in the other room woke, thanks to Remus's hasty _enervate_. Right away they started at each other, each blaming the other two, but all three froze in an instant when a grate at the far end of the room opened and an enormous troll lumbered out.

"A troll?" Remus asked, disappointed.

"It's all Hagrid could get for me," Sirius said by way of apology. "I told him I'd rather it were a dragon, but he said if he had one of those he'd be keeping it for a pet. He also said that beast dog of his was too young yet for this sort of thing. Too young! The thing's old enough to almost maul anyone but him." He shook his head in annoyance. "It will have to do."

"You didn't tell Hagrid _why _you wanted one, did you?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"'Course I did. He was very understanding. Everyone wants a monster for a pet."

"We already got one, though," James said, jerking his head towards Remus with a grin.

Remus rolled his eyes. "And here I thought it was you two that needed to be kept on leashes."

The troll in the other room was large and mean looking. It was also wandering around in a state of confusion, but the three younger boys didn't seem able to distinguish between that and 'out to get us all'. They stopped fighting each other and if, in the ensuing battle, they tried to shove each other into harms way once or twice, James said they were all the better for having it out of their systems.

"Yeah right," Nym snorted, but let it go. He might have had a point.

Soon enough, though, the troll lay in a heap on the floor, unconscious. Sirius stood and stretched. "Well, boys, it's been a good day's work. Who's up for a pint at the Broomsticks?"

"The Three Broomsticks, or your usual haunt?" James teased. Nym dropped flat, anticipating the hex that flew over her head to knock James back several feet, gasping as he was tickled quite mercilessly. Remus joined her behind the chair as the jets of colored light intensified.

"Have you almost finished that essay I assigned you?" he asked, peering around the chair.

"Remus…" Nym sighed.

"Nym…" he returned.

Nym sighed again. "Yes. It's almost done. But there's this reference in the Restricted Section I need, and…"

"I can't give you a note to get it, I'm afraid. I'll pick it up for you tonight, if you like. Which is it?"

"_Galatea Incantum_."

"I wasn't aware I was teaching you that," Remus said, raising one thin grey eyebrow.

Nym shrugged. "It's referenced in two of the books you gave me as a primary source."

"Rather heavy reading for one of your years, but if you can understand it, of course it will help. I'll get it for you after dinner."

"Thanks Remus."

"So I expect that essay by Friday at the latest, understood?"

"Yes Remus. Even with that paper for Tofty, though?" she whined. Of course he wasn't going to let her off, but maybe if she could have some more time to spend flying with Zack…

"We covered that a month ago. It's very simple, and you know it. Quit complaining."

"Fine. I'll get it to you Friday."

"Good girl. What say we make a break for it, now? They seem to be slowing up." They ran for the door, gaining the exit just before the other two boys caught their second wind. The door closed to muffle bangs and pops as James and Sirius tried to outdo each other with ridiculous jinxes.


	15. Start of Summer

_AN: The purpose of this chapter is to show that there are other types of torture, besides those normally associated with the Malfoys. I refer, of course, to manners and boring dinner conversation, rather than dungeons and horribly nasty  curses. It's a rather longish chapter, but that's mostly because I wanted to introduce the Malfoys in all their glory. Evil minions and secret meeting will not appear for several chapters yet, I think. Apologies to anyone who wants Nym to kick of the Ultra Evil Bad guy before Potter ever gets a crack at him._

_On another note, I may be writing a one-shot companion piece to this. I've been having so much fun writing Malfoy Manor that I can't give it up, and Nym will only come here three times (ooh, spoilage!! lol)  So who better to put in Malfoy Manor than darling Draco? We will see._

It had been unseasonably warm that past week, as the final term of the year drew to a close. The results of the exams had been returned, with Nym scoring high in all her exams except History of Magic and Astronomy, the two subjects she had received no special lessons in. "They'll never help you unless you want to go into something boring, like history or… astronomy, I suppose," Sirius had said, waving away the question the one time she'd asked. "Either way, you sit at a desk all the time and are bored to pieces."

Mandy, too, had scraped through, though from her tears both before and after each exam, Nym had been sure she was going to fail out of Hogwarts. The other girl's shining face across the train compartment from her was starting to irk her, in truth. "Mandy," she sighed, "I know you're really happy and all, but it's not like you were ever in danger of flunking. Please calm down."

"Shows what you know," Mandy sniffed. "Rick got a letter from his cousin saying he was going to ace all his exams and his worst enemy was going to flunk out."

Rick, sprawled on the floor of the compartment so he didn't have to share with Mandy, rolled his eyes. "Give it up, Mandy. Sybil's a quack. She couldn't predict breakfast tomorrow if we had the same thing every day."

"But you don't deny I'm your worst enemy," Mandy snapped. Nym traded glances with Zack. How he could stand his sister for so long was a complete mystery to Nym.

"Only because you'll never believe me. Honestly, if you were my worst enemy do you really think I'd be here with you still?"

"You won't sit with me. You hate me," returned Mandy. Nym didn't even want to count the number of times they'd had this argument.

"Come on, you guys," Zack drawled. "It's summer. Let it go. Just kiss and make up and leave the rest of us alone, why don't you."

"Hey," Rick started to protect, before Mandy overrode him.

"Zachary Smith," she screeched, "you… you… oh, I hate you so much. Don't you dare laugh," she added, turning on Rick, "I hate you even more."

"I guess that means I don't get a kiss, huh?" Rick teased. Mandy turned towards the window, refusing to answer.

Zack shook with suppressed laughter. Taking advantage of being allowed to use her wand, Nym built a magical sound barrier around Mandy, cutting off her next words to Zack. "It's serious to her, you know."

"Oh, I know. It's still hilarious to me. Except that I have to live with it. Mom says she'll grow out of it, but she still hasn't said when."

"She has a whole summer."

"Which I get to spend with her, lucky me."

"Hey, I can't even go home, alright? I've gotta go stay with my aunt and uncle."

"Yeah, but they live in a huge mansion, don't they? That's what you said."

"I bet it's really creepy. They're part of my mother's family, after all." She let the ward dissipate. Holding wards always gave her a headache. 

"Come off it. You've been living at Hogwarts all year. It's not like it's a haunted castle or anything."

Nym held up a finger to forestall any further arguments. "My mother's family includes such illustrious personages as Regulus Black. Remember?"

"Can't all be bad, can they?"

"That's what I'm afraid to find out." Not all her relatives were bad, Nym admitted silently. She'd really miss Sirius, now that he was going off to be an auror. Her mother, of course, she loved, for all she currently hated her as well. There had still been no indication of when she would be allowed to come home.

"You never know."

Though Zack tried to keep her spirits up with a steady stream of jokes and light chat, as the ride progressed Nym couldn't help the feeling of extreme gloom that stole over her, enveloping her in a fog that dimmed even the pleasure of her friends' company. As if sensing her mistress's agitation, Morwyn had jumped into Nym's lap, where she made a soft, comforting furnace.

"Cheer up, Nym," Mandy said as the train pulled, too soon, into King's Cross. "We'll write you lots of letters. Oodles and oodles of them. Won't we, Zack?" The look she sent her brother promised all sorts of nasty retributions if he should contradict.

"Er, yeah. Oodles?" Mandy, glaring at her brother's unhelpfulness, smiled at Nym.

"Lots of letters, I promise. So long as you write back, of course."

Nym smiled, hugging her friend goodbye and raising a protest from Morwyn. "Promise." She gave Rick a goodbye hug too, 'for luck', but hesitated in front of Zack. Blushing, she shrugged mentally and gave him a hug anyway.

Together, the four of them dragged their trunks, bumping and scraping, off the train onto the platform. There, Zack and Mandy were promptly swept up by a round, motherly woman was flyaway brown hair. "Did you have a good term, darling," she asked Mandy.

Mandy smiled, although it was hard to tell whether it was at seeing her mother or at her brother's obvious embarrassment at this show of affection. "Oh yes, Momma. I want you to meet Nym, my best friend." She grabbed Nym and pulled her over.

Nym smiled a little shyly, aware of the picture she must make next to Mandy. Her friend was average size, with plain brown hair and eyes, but her energy seemed to explode from her, as though her frame couldn't contain it all. Nym, on the other hand, was small and slight, still pale despite hours spent outside, her eyes too big and bright for her small features. With her enormous black school robes – which, despite her mother's promises, she hadn't grown into – she must look vampiric, or at least waifish.

Mrs. Smith, however, did not seem to note any of that. She turned the same smiling face on Nym. "How do you do, dear? Mandy has written me so much about you. I hope you'll be able to come visit this summer? The seaside is so lovely, and so healthy for children."

"I'd like to," Nym said cautiously. "I'd have to ask my aunt and uncle."

"Of course, dear. But any time you want to come visit, just drop us a line. We'd be thrilled to have you. But we must go, children, your father has kept the car running. Goodbye, Nym, have a lovely summer if you can't come visit." Still smiling, she herded her children away, chattering.

"I can see where she gets it from," Rick murmured. "That's my dad. I'll see you later, right Nym?"

"Yeah," said Nym sadly, as her last friend disappeared. She stood alone in the sea of people, unsure of what to do.

Behind her, a voice she recognized spoke up. "Here sir." Nym turned, her wand in her hand even though she wasn't allowed to do magic. Regulus, however, seemed in no mood to be fighting with her, only looking fearfully at the large blond man beside him.

The man dismissed Regulus with a wave of his hand, and the teen scampered. He kept his gaze locked on Nym's. When Regulus was away, after what seemed an eternity, he smiled. "Nymphadora?"

Nym looked away, staring instead at the scuffed toe of her sneaker. "Yes sir. But I prefer Nym, please."

"Come now, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Nymphadora is a fine name."

Nym hesitated to argue, but at last settled on a milder protest than her usual one to being called Nymphadora. "But a long one, sir."

The man smiled ironically. "I'm sure I can manage. You have everything?"

"Yes sir."

"Very good. Follow me, please." He set off across the platform, Nym at his heels pulling her trunk on its little wheels. "Your aunt wanted to come, but she had morning sickness, I'm afraid. She so wanted to see you come off the train. You have no idea. It would remind her of her own time at Hogwarts, I dare say. I can't imagine what she'll do when your cousin is born. Probably count the days until he gets to go, I shouldn't wonder."

"Please sir," Nym hesitated again, unsure of how to continue, but then she plunged on. "I don't want to be rude, but my mother never told me your name."

"Did she not?"

"Nor even which aunt I was to stay with, sir." Nym bit her lip, suddenly afraid.

But the big man just shook his head wryly, or perhaps in irritation. "My name is Lucius Malfoy. Your aunt Narcissa is my wife."

"I'm sorry sir."

"What, that she's my wife?" At Nym's startled look, he laughed. "No, I know what you mean. But try to speak a little more correctly in the future. We shall turn you into a proper lady while you are at Malfoy Manor, Miss Nymphadora, whether you wish it or not."

"Yes sir," Nym murmured dutifully. So far, Lucius hadn't been quite as bad as she had expected, but she still didn't know quite what to make of him. Make her into a lady, would he? They would see about _that_.

"Here we are." They were in a strange, gloomy street, wreathed through with fog. A coach sat before them, the horses standing still and disciplined. A coachman leapt from the back to open the door, while a second sprang to take Nym's trunk. Cradling Morwyn, she allowed her uncle to hand her up into the coach, banging her head on the door as she did. "And the first thing we shall do, I think, is cure your clumsiness," Lucius added as he climbed nimbly in and sat opposite her. "Don't think I hadn't noticed you stumbling on every upraised cobblestone."

Nym lowered her head. Yes, she had stumbled, but he had been walking quickly, and she had had to contend with Morwyn and her trunk besides. It had not been her usual unfortunate clumsiness, only the regular sort, that anyone would have in those circumstances.

"Your cat," her uncle said abruptly as the coach rocked into motion. "What is its name?"

"Her name is Morwyn. I hope that is acceptable," she added, with a slight sneer.

Lucius nodded, however. "Very appropriate. I would have been most displeased had you named such a fine creature some hideously childish name like Jinx or Mogs." Nym looked down at the kitten, curled contentedly in her lap. Between Jimmy's indulgent attentions and her own, Morwyn had grown from a pathetic little scrap of fur to a sweet, moderately sized cat. As if sensing the scrutiny, Morwyn looked up at her, their green gazes meeting, and issued a small mew.

There was silence in the coach for a time, during which Nym stroked Morwyn for reassurance. It was broken by her uncle, clearing his throat abruptly. "I hope you will learn quickly what is expected of a lady, Nymphadora. Your grandmother has decided that she will call for Sunday dinner, and she would be most displeased to find you a little ragamuffin like so many of today's children."

"I'll try, sir," Nym promised dutifully, resolving at once to write Mandy and ask if she couldn't come live with her instead.

In less time than Nym would have thought possible – except that it was magic, of course, so naturally the journey was fast, as though Lucius would allow it to be any other way – the coach had pulled up in front of two massive iron gates, their bars ornamented by an 'M' twisted about with a snake. Manicured lawns sloped away from the drive behind it, impersonal and perfect in the gathering twilight.

"Our family has always belonged to Slytherin, of course. It is a matter of great personal pride."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't see how it could be." Too late, Nym bit her lip to keep from speaking.

"You'd be Gryffindor, then," her uncle said, as though saying she had the pox, but he supposed he'd have to live with it, anyway, reluctant though he was to do so.

"Yes sir."

"And tell me, Miss Nymphadora, is Gryffindor so much better than Slytherin?"

Nym hesitated before responding. A wrong answer could, she was sure, make life very difficult for her in the next few months. And though her house loyalty urged her to answer the affirmative, she felt compelled to answer the truth. "I think all the houses are fine, in their way. Gryffindor is no better than Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, I freely admit."

"But… you have not said Slytherin. Why not?"

Nym stared out the window as they approached the large stone manor house, a perfect sentinel to bygone days of power and influence. "I have not yet met one that was not overly proud of their place there and unwilling to admit the possibility that those in other houses might have some quality too."

"You label them as they label you."

"I only said that I have not yet, sir. I admit the possibility, though it seems unlikely when a Slytherin, one of my own relations in truth, has sworn to kill me, and no few have tried to do me harm."

"You make enemies quickly. May I ask who this brash young man is? I confess I have my suspicions."

"Yes sir. Regulus Black, sir."

Lucius wore an odd expression. "Naturally. Well," he said, dismissively, "Regulus always was an odd boy. I have given up hoping that he would grow out of it. You shall just have to be sure to kill him first."

Startled, Nym stared at her uncle, searching for a suitable reply. "Is that… ladylike, sir?" she asked at last. Lucius roared with laughter.

"You will do well here, I think, Miss Nymphadora. Narcissa will love you. She does so love children. But be warned," he added with a conspiratorial wink, "don't let her take you shopping for things for the baby, if you value your sanity."

"I will keep it in mind, sir."

"Very good." He stepped out of the coach, and handed Nym down. A slightly dumpy woman was waiting, her hands folded neatly before her. Sharp faced, she looked Nym up and down critically, and Nym found herself hoping that this was not her aunt. "Nymphadora, I present Madam Pierce, our housekeeper. She will show you to your rooms. Supper is at seven, be sure you are dressed appropriately." He turned to the housekeeper. "The Sky Room, no?"

"Yes sir," Madam Pierce replied, spreading her skirts in an exact curtsy. Lucius nodded once, and turned away. Madam Pierce studied Nym again, then turned and entered the house, leaving Nym to trail in her wake. She was led through an enormous entrance hall, up a grand staircase and then along a dizzying series of passages, filled with old portraits and what were undoubtedly priceless pieces of art.

At last they stopped before a painting. It's subject, a stern man with a precisely clipped beard and a highly decorated naval uniform, regarded them severely. Beneath his gilt frame, which lacked any of the curling, fanciful work of most of the other frames, read the name 'Lord Admiral William Skye'. "Madam," the admiral said, "I had asked you not to come this way again. I expect my wishes to be followed."

Madam Pierce, with a venomous look at Nym, spread her skirts in a curtsy for the painting. "I apologize, sir. But…"

"But me no buts, madam. You shall do as instructed. And who are you?" he asked, turning on Nym.

"Nymphadora Tonks, sir."

"Tonks," Skye said reflectively. "Not a name I know. What is your heritage?"

"My mother was a Black, sir."

"A relative of the mistress?"

"She is my aunt, sir." Nym was, by this time, heartily sick of addressing people as 'sir', but it just seemed to slip out, as natural as calling Professor Prewett 'Professor'.

"What is your business here, Miss Tonks?" the admiral asked, looking at her with, Nym thought, a little less suspicion.

"I'm staying with my aunt and uncle for the summer, sir. From what my uncle said, I was under the impression I was to have the Sky Room."

"That's Skye, with an 'e'. Mark it, mistress."

"Yes sir."

The admiral looked her up and down, much as Madam Pierce had done, but seemed to like what he found better than the housekeeper had done. "I do not allow just anyone to inhabit my rooms, you know. Your uncle must have extreme faith in your character, to even suggest that you be given them. Particularly without consulting me first." Nym didn't say anything. "Very well. I approve. Not you," he snapped, when Madam Pierce stepped forward to open the door that appeared beside the portrait, in what little room that was left in the dead end by the enormous painting.

Leaving the scowling housekeeper, Nym opened the door tentatively. Rather than the bedroom she had expected, she was greeted by a small room, almost completely dominated by a winding iron staircase. Light came from a few flickering torches, but Nym was so used to torches from Hogwarts that she hardly noted them, though they might once have given her pause. With growing trepidation, Nym mounted the stairs, climbing slowly as she worked muscles that had kinked from long hours on the train and then in the coach. The door at the top was solid and dark, some heavy wood seemingly made entirely of knots and burls. It swung open easily when she turned the silver handle, opening into a large room.

Three of the walls were entirely taken up by windows, one of which would open to let her onto a wrapping balcony. Skylights in the roof let in even more light, making the room bright despite the clouds outside. It wasn't decorated like the rest of the house, either, being airy rather than musty and cluttered. A few low chests and a desk sat against the walls, their wood simple and unadorned yet elegant. Most of the rest of the room was dominated by the canopied bed, its grey drapes hanging listlessly like sails awaiting the wind.

There was another occupant to the room, a little green creature that turned and bowed very low to her, wringing its knobbley hands. "Jenky is sorry, Miss. Jenky was bringing Miss's trunk, but Miss came too soon. Forgive Jenky, Miss."

"Er, of course Jenky."

"Thank you, Miss. If miss be needing anything, Miss must only call for Jenky, and Jenky will come." The creature disappeared. So, Nym thought, that's a house elf. James was right, they were completely bonkers. She didn't have time to contemplate this latest revelation, however, for a knock sounded on the inner door.

"Yes?" she called, hesitantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to meet any more of the crazy denizens of this house.

The door opened to admit a thin, pale woman. Her face, like Nym's, was thin, and though her features were larger, they were no less fine boned. Her hair was pale, set in a neat coil atop her head. Nym could knew immediately that this was her aunt Narcissa. The resemblance to Andromeda was too strong for it to be anyone else. There was her mother's determined chin, there her black eyes, there her fine blond hair. But it was her mother as she was ten years before, thin and watchful.

Narcissa smiled warmly, and embraced Nym, kissing each of her cheeks in greeting. "Oh, Nymphadora, how wonderful that you're here! I can't tell you how excited I am to have you here. Oh, but you do take after my mother." She smiled a little sadly. "Unfortunate that. Imagine, looking like that little brat Sirius, or worse, that good-for-aught Regulus. Oh, but no matter, my dear. We can't help our relations, can we?" Nym smiled a little tightly, agreeing whole heartedly. She'd write Mandy the first chance she got. "I've come to help you get ready for supper. It's so hard, I find, coming to a new place and being expected to know everything. I'll show you around after supper, of course. Our home is your home, for the summer."

She led the unresisting Nym to the trunk, which she opened and peered through. Her face fell a little at the clothes. "Oh, dear, we must find you something else. We'll go shopping tomorrow. This is all very well for a schoolgirl, but you are a lady."

Nym felt her smile becoming forced. Yes, her clothes were plain, and a little too big, but they were hers, dammit. Narcissa would have to accept that. And that she wasn't a lady, and saying it over and over wasn't going to make it so.

At last Narcissa settled on an outfit for Nym to wear, and shooed her towards the bathroom to change. Though short on time, thanks to Narcissa's insistence on picking through every stitch of clothing, Nym couldn't help but pause and marvel at the delicate pale marble that made up the bathroom.

Supper was torture, being slowly drawn out with elaborate manners and mindless, boring small talk. All through it, Lucius would quietly murmur things to Nym, like 'sit up straighter, good', and 'delicately, it's a butter knife not a butcher's cleaver', 'small sips, you're a lady, not a sailor'. Nym was sorely tempted to hurl her delicate crystal water goblet at her uncle's head.

Six courses later, Lucius retreated to his parlor for a brandy (and no wonder, Nym felt she might take to drinking if forced to sit through another meal like that) and Narcissa let Nym on her tour of the house. It was filled with stops, during which Narcissa talked about this portrait or that, and what a fine, upstanding witch or wizard each of the subject had been. The portraits listened to this history gravely, looked Nym up and down, and murmured a few empty words. Finally, when Nym thought she could stand it no more, Narcissa opened one of two enormous wooden doors. Nym could almost see the magic sparking through the wood, so heavily were they enchanted.

"Wards against fire, dust, mildew, all manner of things," Narcissa said, leading Nym into a circular room that dwarfed even the doors. Spread before them, and above them, in seemingly endless shelves were books, enough to swallow the entire Hogwarts library and still have room to spare. "Lucius's father was a noted collector of books. He nearly doubled the Malfoy collection, which was already one of the largest private libraries in the world." Nym hardly heard her, so absorbed was she by the sheer volume of books. "You're welcome to visit it any time you like, of course," Narcissa added. Nym could hardly believe her luck. Suddenly the summer didn't look so bad. It wasn't that she was a bookworm, but there was so much to be learned… and perhaps as many places to hide from her aunt and uncle.

"Good evening, madam," a voice whispered breathily. Nym turned to find herself confronted by a ghost, peering at her through its spectral bifocals. The man could have lived in the seventeenth century, or even before.

"Hello Anton," Narcissa replied. She didn't seem all that enthusiastic. "This is my niece, Nymphadora. Anton is our librarian, dear. If you ever need anything, he can find it for you I'm sure."

"Always a pleasure, Miss Nymphadora." He bowed stiffly, and it seemed he might be alive to feel the pain of his old joins creaking. "I hope you will find something to your taste, here." Nym smiled, liking the ghost's quaint formality and bookish air.

"I'm sure I will, thank you." Perhaps the summer would not be so bad after all. Perhaps.

**_Review_**


	16. Settling In

_Well, it's been a time in coming, and I hope it's been worth the wait. I thought I had uploaded this and the next chapter some time previously, but apparently the computer didn't care for it. But, here it is now in any case._

* * *

Nym placed a hesitant hand on the library door, worried that Madam Pierce would appear once again. Despite her aunt's assurances that she was free to go anywhere, it seemed that any time she ventured too far down a lonely passage, the housekeeper would appear to lead her back to the more frequented parts of the house, her face dry and pinched. Anton had seemed not to mind that she visit, though, and taking heart from this, Nym pushed on the door. Despite its size, it swung open easily, closing behind her noiselessly after she stepped inside. 

Anton looked up. "Ah, Miss Nymphadora." Suddenly she seemed to cease to exist, as Anton entered his own private world. "From nymph, a creature of great beauty from Greek mythology, and 'dora', meaning gift in Greek. Indeed, a beautiful gift for this lonely house." The bookish ghost seemed to realize Nym was still there, flushing. "Now, Miss Nymphadora, is there something I can help you find? A subject of particular interest, perhaps? Or would you prefer just to browse?" 

"Something on Charms, perhaps?" Nym said a bit hesitantly. 

Anton seemed surprised. "Charms, Miss Nymphadora? You will have to be more specific than that, I'm afraid. There is an entire section devoted to Charms." His focus seemed to fade again. "Consisting of nine thousand, four hundred and twenty six volumes, arranged by subject matter, difficulty and author, published between the year one thousand ninety two and nineteen hundred fifty five." He shook his head sadly. "Scholarship in this household has fallen into a sad decline, Miss Nymphadora, since the days of Master Lucius's late father." 

"Could you maybe suggest something for me, Anton?" 

A smile crinkled the ethereal lines of the old ghost's face. "A suggestion, Miss Nymphadora? I would be delighted. But please, follow me. It has been so long since I could move books even a fraction so well as I must." He sighed, like the wind whistling through the pages of a book. 

The Charms section had no distinguishing marker. Nym had to wonder how Anton kept track of anything, without signs or notes to help him, but he seemed to have been here long enough not to need them. Under his direction, she climbed a thin stair to a catwalk about halfway up the high wall. The Charms section, between two high windows, had its own ladder that rattled from one end to the other when Nym bumped into it. "Careful Miss Nymphadora. Careful," Anton cautioned. His ghostly fingers trailed along – or perhaps through – the spines of the books meditatively. At last he settled on a thin red volume, wedged between two much thicker books at the very edge of one of the highest shelves.   
"A rather specialized book," he commented as she wrested it free. "But I think you'll find it quite appropriate. It was composed by a Malfoy, you know. Mistress Morgan Magdalene Malfoy, as she was." Indeed, two ornate 'M's precluded the name Malfoy in embossed gold on the cover. Despite its apparent age, the book was in fine condition. "Composed around, oh, I don't remember, my memory does fade with the years, hmm, February, I believe it was, eighteen hundred forty-seven. For her young daughter, Agnes Mary Malfoy." Nym settled herself on the ladder to hear the old ghost lecture. "Girls weren't taught magic back then, oh my no, not even the proper witches from all magic families. A little house magic, maybe, for the poorer girls, but it was only a few charms for the young ladies. Oh my, but Mistress Morgan did not approve. A fine witch, she was, equal to most any wizard in the world. A pity her daughter never showed much aptitude for magic. I dare say she was quite heartbroken when she found Agnes preferred a pretty dress to a properly transfigured kettle. I shouldn't wonder at the tale that says she turned the girl to stone. Not permanently, my dear, never fret," he added, seeing Nym's horrified look. "Only as a lesson in the powers of magic. Mistress Morgan had quite the Malfoy temper." He sighed nostalgically. "Go now, shoo, find yourself a proper armchair to read that in. There are quite enough in here, lord knows, never mind that they take space from the books. No need to be sitting on a rickety old ladder." He waved his crinkled hands at her, and floated back to his desk, where he returned to poring over the same tome that had been there when Narcissa had shown Nym the library. 

Hugging the book to her, Nym climbed down the staircase and made her way to where a large green armchair sat in the full light of one of the library windows, hidden deep in one of the sheltered alcoves of the library. When the clock on the mantle chimed some three hours later, Nym tucked the book carefully into her robe pocket, equal parts angry at the schedule that demanded that she put the book away for supper and amazed that she could find it so absorbing. 

Following her discovery of the library, the days passed quickly for Nym. After reading through Mistress Morgan's book twice, she decided to attempt one of the charm bracelets that seemed to comprise the majority of Mistress Morgan's magic. Until, that is, she realized she wasn't allowed to do magic. Her disappointment must have been easily read on her face, because Lucius noticed it at dinner that night. 

"What's upsetting you, Nymphadora?" he asked. "You'll make it rain outside if you go around looking like that." 

"At least it would be a change from this blasted fog," commented his guest that night, a heavy set man who breathed through his mouth like a winded rhinoceros. Lucius sent him a scathing look that he covered so quickly Nym hardly registered it. Mister Godfrey Goyle didn't notice at all, so intent was he on his braised salmon. 

Narcissa spoke up, a rarity when Lucius had guests. She was not fond of many of Lucius's guests, and particularly disliked Mister Goyle. "Oh, don't say you're unhappy here, Nymphadora. You aren't feeling sick, are you?" 

Nym had to smile at her aunt's worry. She'd grown used to Narcissa's brainless comments, and now understood that, whatever Andromeda's relationship with the rest of her family, Narcissa truly did care about Nym, and wanted to help her. "No, Aunt Narcissa. I'm feeling fine. It's foolish for me to be upset. Please don't pay it any mind. I hate to distress you." She still had trouble 'speaking correctly', as Lucius put it, but even he had remarked on the improvement in her conversation skills. Which did not mean much, since he had originally classified them as atrocious. 

"Come now, Nymphadora. What distresses you?" asked Lucius, putting a delicate piece of fish in his mouth. 

"Only, I was hoping to try some of the spells from the library, but I'm not allowed to do magic at home over the summer." 

"Posh!" It was the first time Nym had seen Lucius look anything besides mildly interested or politely bored. "That was always a stupid rule." He leaned closer to Nym. "We have an exception to that, here at Malfoy Manor. The ministry looks the other way for us, because we have been training our youth here ourselves for centuries." He laughed heartily, and Mister Goyle joined in, although he didn't understand the joke. "And if there's one thing the ministry will not contradict, it is tradition. Am I not right, Goyle?" 

"Yes sir," Mister Goyle said dutifully, smiling at the joke that still caused Lucius so much amusement.   
"But come, Nymphadora, you spend too much time indoors anyway. Would you not rather play outside?"   
"I'd rather fly, sir, but I haven't a broom."   
"Haven't a broom?" Lucius asked. "Has no one shown you the broom shed?"   
"No sir."   
"Nor the quidditch pitch?" 

In her excitement, Nym forgot all the manners that had been so precisely drilled into her and dropped her fork with a clatter. "You have a quidditch pitch? Awesome!" 

Narcissa smiled to see her niece so excited, and even Lucius seemed caught up in the general excitement. "Yes, yes. My great grandfather had it built. He hoped to host a World Cup match, you know, until it became apparent that that would mean allowing spectators onto Manor grounds. Quite unacceptable. I shall show you first thing in the morning. Should you like that?" 

Nym remembered her manners in time to reply. "Oh yes, sir. Very much so."   
Lucius smiled indulgently. "Not really a girl's sport, quidditch. Wouldn't you say, Goyle?"   
"Yes sir."   
"But such a top notch sport, I cannot find it in me to fault anyone for wanting to play."   
"Me neither, sir." 

"Good, good." With the promise of a quidditch pitch and the freedom to do magic, Nym felt her spirits soar. She had found, lately, that it was nice to have clothes that fit her properly, and were well made. She felt less like an imposter, trying to fit into someone else's place, and more like Nym, who really was a witch and really did belong at Hogwarts, or anywhere else she chose to go. And though Narcissa took forever on their shopping trips, and tended to flutter at anything made for a baby, she still respected Nym's taste, and didn't try to force her to buy anything she didn't like. She was even finding that her aunt made some good suggestions for purchases she would never have thought of herself, and which she had ended up falling in love with. Even the enforced good manners didn't rankle so much as they once had. Something was bound to go wrong. That something arrived Sunday. 


	17. Malfoy Manner

It was quite possibly the worst time Narcissa could have stepped into the little laboratory that opened off the library. Nym had all her attention focused on the potion she was making, counting slowly to herself as she stirred her cauldron just so. She was sweaty and bedraggled, not having bothered to change after coming in off the pitch after a windy hour of flying. The potion was at a critical point and… 

Bang. The door slammed open, as it always did because of some imbalance in its construction. Nym jerked, then forced herself back to the potion, feverishly hoping that all her work wouldn't be lost because of the momentary lapse. 

"One moment, please," she demanded, counting silently. Narcissa, for a wonder, waited patiently for a full five minutes before Nym covered the cauldron to allow the potion to simmer, setting the golden timer that sat on one of the shelves for forty hours, six minutes and twelve seconds. Mistress Morgan's book was very precise, even more so than the most difficult of the potions either Remus or Professor Tofty had ever set her. At last she looked up. "Yes, Aunt Narcissa?" 

"Oh dear. I was afraid you had forgotten. Your grandmother is coming for dinner tonight." Nym felt the blood drain from her cheeks. There was a portrait of Grandmother on one of the walls, and she looked a horrible woman. Nym felt truly fortunate that it couldn't move, and wouldn't be able to until after the woman's death. Otherwise she might well have had her grandmother following her around shrieking, as Narcissa warned she sometimes did. "And she just sent us an owl. My aunt is coming too." 

Nym bit her lip, hesitantly, and led her aunt back into the library proper. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked worriedly. If her great aunt was as bad as her grandmother was supposed to be, she wasn't sure how she would cope. "Is she like…?" she couldn't bring herself to ask. Besides, that would be like speaking badly about her grandmother. And whatever her personal feelings about the woman, one thing Narcissa would never tolerate was speaking ill of another. It simply wasn't ladylike. 

"Much more so." Narcissa sighed. "I suppose it's only to be expected, what with sons like hers. With those two, it's something of a surprise she hasn't landed in St. Mungo's." 

Narcissa so rarely criticized anyone that Nym just had to ask who the boys could be that they would be so terrible. She had a guess, but if she was right, it would only make things worse, not better. 

"Those little brats, Sirius and Regulus. Spoiled rotten, the both of them." Of course. What great aunt could have two sons that Narcissa disapproved of so thoroughly? "Regulus by his mother and Sirius by Andromeda. She always made such a pet of him. It's no wonder he turned into a bad lot." 

Nym couldn't help but stick up for her cousin. "He's not that bad, really." Narcissa looked at her in surprise. "He looked after me when Regulus was picking on me." She didn't elaborate. Narcissa would never understand how much Sirius had looked after her, how much like a brother he'd become. 

Her aunt sighed. "I suppose the boy might have some merit, after all. It would surprise me no end, but anything is possible." Nym knew she would get no more concessions on Sirius's behalf from Narcissa. 

Back in her room, Nym turned before the long mirror to confirm for herself her aunt's assessment of her dress robes. They were neat, spotless, stylish and, moreover, fit properly. Her hair, left unchecked since last September, hung most of the way down her back. She thought it looked rather plain and straggly, but Narcissa assured her it was a very classic style for witches. Besides, her grandmother would not like it if wore it in a more becoming style. She would think Nym was trying to be one of 'those hussy girls' that her grandmother so disapproved of. It was unfortunate, Narcissa admitted, that Nym was so small featured, but it would be better to seem waifish, and therefore petite and delicate, than bold and 'hussy'. 

"You know," a small voice commented when Narcissa had hurried off to make herself ready, leaving Nym with strict orders not to muss her clothes, "black is not really the right color for you." Nym looked around, to find the small portrait, which she had not even realized moved, talking to her. The woman was small and fine boned, as was Nym herself, but held herself with a dignity Nym would never achieve. 

Nym sighed. "I know. And formal occasions aren't really my thing either. But I don't have a choice." She half expected the portrait to make some crazy suggestion, like other mysterious figures did in books and movies, but the woman didn't. She looked Nym up and down critically. 

"Your grandmother doubtless thinks it most appropriate."   
"Yes, miss." 

The woman shook her head. "The Blacks have always been so. I used to believe that was where the name came from. You, however, are not a Black." 

"I certainly look like one," Nym said bitterly. 

The woman shook her head again, this time in a vexed sort of way. "Oh, you have the Black hair, I will grant you that. But you have the features of a Malfoy," she added proudly. 

"I'm only related to the Malfoys through marriage," Nym protested.   
"Bosh. All pure bloods are related, if you go back far enough. I don't doubt some distant ancestor of yours was a Malfoy."   
"I suppose," said Nym, unable to disguise her doubt. 

"Well I know it. William can tell these things, you know. He keeps careful track of every pureblooded wizard's genealogy. An old project, and one that has often proved useful for the Headmasters of Hogwarts. You would not be in this room, young lady, if you were not a Malfoy." 

Something occurred to Nym. "Is that why Madam Pince couldn't come in?"   
"Who?"   
"The housekeeper." 

"Perhaps. Or mayhap William simply did not like her. His favor is much harder to come by than Malfoy blood, and that is a rare thing," the woman added proudly. 

Nym smiled sadly. The woman sounded very like one of the Slytherins back at school, but she couldn't help liking her anyway. "That doesn't help me, though, miss. I still have to face dinner with my grandmother." 

"Not like that, you shan't," the woman proclaimed. "Now, do you see that molding over there? Put your hand on it." It came away in her hand, revealing a hole about eight inches across. A wooden box was placed inside, which Nym drew out slowly.   
Opening it reverently on her desk, she lifted the latch with careful fingers. When she drew out the dress, it was immediately apparent it was a magical box. It would not have fit, else, nor the slippers she found underneath. "Am I to wear this?" Nym asked, reverently stroking the fabric of the dress. 

"No," the lady answered decisively. "You're much too young. Someday, I promise you, but not yet. Now, open the top paper package." 

Nym, in staring at the dress, had missed the slim paper packages that filled the bottom of the box. She drew out the first, unwrapping the delicate old paper slowly. Inside was a delicate silver hair clip, apparently spun of silver lace and emeralds. "T'was mine as a girl," the lady said. "T'is the only thing in there young enough for you. I only hope I shall see you wear the rest, someday." 

"I hope so too," Nym said, as she reverently replaced the slippers and dress. She returned the box to its hiding place behind the molding. As she carefully set her hair, she reflected that this must be how all those pure blooded Slytherins she loathed lived. Shut up in a dim series of corridors with only her long dead ancestors for company, Nym thought she, too, might be a little odd. She still didn't like their high headed ways, but she didn't hate them anymore. Rather, she pitied them. She gave her hair a last pat before turning away from the mirror, missing the lady's nod of approval. Her wand was sitting on the desk, and she laid her hand on it for a minute, debating whether to bring it with her. But Lucius had made it abundantly clear over the past weeks that wands were not to be brought to the dinner table. Indeed, it would be like bringing a loaded gun or a bared sword to the table. Not even sworn enemies – particularly not sworn enemies – brought their wands to the supper table. There was nothing more distressing, Narcissa had added one day, than a magical duel over the cheese plate. She had said this with a significant look at Lucius, but Nym had kept her mouth shut, though her curiosity threatened to kill her. 

That was another thing she had learned here, she thought bitterly as she made her way through the dimly let hallways towards the front door. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. How she longed for the enthusiastic mealtime conversations with Mandy and Rick. She'd written them both twice already, but hadn't yet received any replies. She'd also written Zack, once, keeping his letter much shorter than Mandy's. Although she had so much she wanted to say to him, she knew Mandy would find out she had written, and Nym didn't want any of Mandy's previous accusations repeated. 

Remus had written back, on behalf of himself, James and Sirius. He'd given her a list of books to dig out of the library and study, and instructions for a number of papers he wanted her to write. He had every intention of continuing to teach her, and hoped to use her as a test subject while he worked on his Degree for Higher Magical Education at the National Academy of Magic in Zurich. 

Poor Anton, Nym thought as she trailed her fingers down the stone banister of the main staircase. He'd almost fallen out of the air in shock when she'd told him the books Remus had told her to look for. No child, he'd insisted, had any place even knowing such books existed. Then she'd shown him her treatise on _Shapeshifter_, and he'd subsided, though he still protested occasionally. He hadn't told Lucius yet, though, for which Nym was grateful. She didn't think her uncle would approve of her studying texts like those, for all they were in his own library. 

Narcissa was waiting by the front door to greet her mother and aunt. She smiled tightly when she saw Nym, coming. "Oh, thank God," she breathed. She gave Nym an absent smile. "Go wait in the parlor, please Nymphadora. I've left a book there for you to pretend to read. It's what your grandmother expects." She shooed Nym away. 

In the parlor, a small magical fire burned in the grate, silent and cold. The book was waiting on a chair. It was small, bound neatly in worn green leather. Nym opened it and began to read, though she quickly wished she hadn't. It was terribly boring, all about how one was supposed to conduct ones self in a royal court. Nevertheless, she sat neatly as she'd been instructed, reading from the book that hovered obligingly at the right height for her to read comfortably. 

Soon, she heard her aunt's voice, echoing pathetically through the vast hallways. "I trust father is in good health, Mother?" 

A nasal voice, appalling in its crow like screeching tones, replied, growing louder as the speaker approached. "He is not, as you would know if you paid attention the way you should. It's his liver again, the bastard. Spending his life drinking with those disgusting friends of his… what have we here?" Nym looked up, not having to pretend the look of surprise that flitted across her face. It took effort to suppress the look of revulsion that would normally have followed, however. 

In front of her aunt's slim figure were two bent old hags, each dressed in draping black. One, the one that didn't seem to be speaking, had a horribly pale face, looking like the old witch in Snow White that had so scared Nym when she was little. Purple shadows created inverted half moons under her deep set black eyes, set close about a protruding beak of a nose. 

The other woman, who Nym guessed to be her grandmother, looked very like her sister-in-law, except that her face was ruddy and she wore a chain of rubies about her scrawny neck, which reminded Nym ominously of blood as they caught the light of the fire. "Nymphadora," Narcissa said sternly if, Nym thought, a little weakly, "say hello to your grandmother and great-aunt." 

Had she been at home with her parents, greeting her paternal grandmother, Nym would have run to the woman and hugged her, kissing her leathery old cheek. She had no desire to go anywhere near this woman, though, as she stood in the doorway like one of the Furies, come out of myth to punish the world. Nym set aside her book, slowly and daintily to hide her reluctance. Well, she though, suddenly reckless, they want me to be a lady. So a lady I'll be. She dropped a neat curtsy, bowing her head to hide her glare, and murmured a greeting. 

One of the women cackled. "You've trained her well, Naricissa, so you have. Proper young girl, not like most these days. Eh? You'll make some man a lovely husband some day, if you learn to hide that glare better." 

"At least she can hold her tongue, can't you dearie?" the other one chimed in, in equally terrible tones. "Not like her mother. Stupid girl." Nym opened her mouth angrily, then shut it resolutely. She would not lower herself to replying to these old hags. 

"Eh? What's this?" her grandmother demanded. "Andromeda was a failure, no doubt, but she did not bring such shame on the family as your son." 

The other one let out something of a shriek. "My son is a wonderful young man, Agnes. And don't you forget it. The other one doesn't exist any more, so he doesn't." She made a snuffling sort of snort. "He'll be dead enough soon that it won't matter, anyway." 

Nym's grandmother looked at her sharply. "Well girl, what do you think? Your great aunt is very proud of her son Regulus. He was at Hogwarts, as was the other one. What's your opinion?" 

Nym knew she shouldn't. She should just keep her mouth shut, and murmur something about not really knowing, but being sure they, in their wisdom (that is to say, old and ungraceful age) knew best. Instead she glared angrily at both the offending old women. "Regulus is a brute and a pig. He's a coward, too." 

Nym saw the blood drain from her aunt's face. Uh oh. "Is that so?" her great aunt said nastily. "And I suppose you like the other one, do you? The blood traitor? Just like your mother, aren't you girl?" 

Nym glared at the woman. "My thoughts don't change the truth about Regulus. Or do you say it's brave, for an older boy to try and kill a first year student?" 

"Tried to kill you, did he?" her great aunt asked, cackling to herself. "Quite right of him, I don't doubt." 

Nym could almost see her grandmother's hair rising, like an angered cat. "Quite right, was it? Quite right to curse my granddaughter, his own cousin? She's no mudblood, dearie, as you'd do well to remember." 

"No," the other returned. "She's even worse, the spawn of a mudblood and a blood traitor." Anything else she planned to say was cut off when she was flung across the room. Nym smiled angrily. Oh yes, she was quite angry enough to do magic without a wand, although Remus had always warned her to avoid trying, and thus avoid some nasty complications too. 

Her grandmother cackled. "Oh, yes, dearie, a Black to the very bone. Your grandfather would be so proud, if he weren't in St Mungo's with fibromalmagicus and Merlin knows what else. Very proud, indeed." Narcissa looked even paler than ever. 

Nym tossed her hair angrily, causing the firelight to glint off the silver hair clip. Just for a moment, it sparkled gold and red, before returning to its proper silver. "I'll be a Malfoy before I'm a Black, and I'm a Gryffindor before I'm either." She stormed towards the door, shoving her grandmother out of the way. Startled, the old woman stepped back. Halfway up the stairs, Nym paused to look back at her still startled relatives. "And don't call me Nymphadora. It's Nym Tonks. Get used to it." The stairs, however, failed to thump satisfyingly as she stormed up them.   



	18. The Outside World

Dear Nym, 

How are you? I hope your relatives aren't too beastly. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, but there's so much happening. Besides, my relatives are here, and they don't know I'm a witch, so I couldn't very well send Blackie with this letter to you. That's my brother's owl's name. I don't get an owl until third year, mum said, because I write most of my letters from school anyway, and they have owls to use. Zack got one, cause mum and dad didn't know that when he started. But then he had to go and name it Black Bart. I should get him, out of kindness to the poor bird. 

I'm having the most splendid summer, you have no idea, except that I can't use magic. I can't believe how much I miss it. But my cousins are visiting from Spain, and it's so much fun. My cousin brought one of his friends, who's really cute. I think he likes me. But any time I talk to him my beastly brother starts making cat calls. He's two years older than me. He should be more mature than me by now, don't you think? And I got in trouble when I put a fish in his bed. But you should have seen him jump. Not that I did (I don't watch my brother go to bed, that's just gross) but I sure heard it. He sleeps up in the attic, and he fell right out of bed, so everyone in the whole house could hear him hopping around and shrieking. I only wish you could have been there to laugh with me. But mum's very angry with both of us now, so Zack has to fix the dock, and I have to do the dishes every night for the rest of the summer. Can you imagine? And she always uses so many pans when she's cooking. 

I wish you could come stay with us. Are you sure your aunt and uncle won't let you come? Maybe if you ask them often enough, they'll give in just to shut you up. We can hope. 

Mandy 

__

_Dear Nym,___

_How goes it? I have to apologize, but I'm writing for very selfish reasons: I don't want to have to go downstairs and face Sybil. She's staying with us for the next week and a half. I don't know how I'll survive. She's always moaning about doom and stuff, ever since she found out that there are some people (ahem, mum) who actually take her seriously. As if she could really see the future. But she walks around in a beaded shawl and huge glasses anyway, burning incense and chanting nonsense to 'purify' the house. It reeks here, ever since she came.___

_I bet your house doesn't reek. Mister Malfoy would never allow it, to hear dad talk about him. When he found out you were staying there he kind of went 'oh', like he was surprised and really worried. All I'm saying is, keep your nose clean, you hear?___

_Can't think of much else, really. I'm going to Diagon Alley next Thursday to get my school stuff. Maybe you can meet me there? If your aunt and uncle will let you, that is. They probably will. Won't they? It's not like you can stay cooped up in the library for the rest of the summer. Although having your own quidditch pitch sounds awesome. Maybe someday I can come visit, and we can practice for quidditch. Not that I want to get on the team. I'll leave that to you. I expect you to play for England someday. And I'll be your biggest fan. _And here there was something heavily crossed out_. Sorry, Sybil just came in and grabbed my letter. She wanted to make a prediction for you. Whatever, I'll do it, and it'll be way more accurate than anything she could possibly come up with. Here goes, dim the lights and read it in a really spooky voice: you're gonna go away on a trip in a month. It's coming clearer… there's a train… oh, and there's lots of other people… a date, a date… September first…___

_Why, I do believe you may be going to Hogwarts. Can you imagine? The crazy things I come up with. But here's a serious warning, from mum and dad. Take care of yourself, Nym. The Malfoys are a funny lot, as bad as the Blacks. And we all know what they're like.___

_Hey, hey, don't throw the letter away, Nym. I know your mum's a Black, and so is Sirius, but I just mean in general. They're not all as nice as your mum, as I bet you'll find out as soon as you meet your grandmother (unless that's already happened, in which case, I told you so).___

_Let me know if you can come.___

_Rick___

Dear Nym, 

I know Mandy's been writing you, because she tried to take Bart yesterday. Didn't even ask. Not that I expect her to. What's hers is hers and what's mine is also hers, is the way it works with her. Luckily, I don't see her too much anymore. Mum keeps her penned up inside so we don't have to be near each other. Not so luckily, that's 'cause I have to fix the dock, which is no fun. The water is freezing, when you have to stay in it for absolute ever to get some of the nails, and it keeps moving when I try and hammer. And my cousin is no help. Him and his stupid friend keep jumping on it when I'm trying to work. And all Mandy can do is sigh and bat her eyelashes at the stupid little Spanish boy. 

Well, I think that's enough whining, don't you? Just so you know you aren't the only one with an annoying family. I'll trade, if you like. You can come listen to Mandy and Phil and I'll go use your uncle's quidditch pitch. I'm so jealous, you have no idea. Your very own World Cup pitch. That's so amazing. And be allowed to use magic whenever you want… I'd put up with your aunt and uncle if I could do that. They don't sound all that bad. I mean, a little weird, but lots of people are, right? But you've got your own house elf, and the ghost librarian sounds really cool, even if the house keeper is a prig. I mean, it'd be like having your own private Hogwarts. Except that they're making you act all proper, and all. I can't imagine it, you behaving properly. I'm just waiting for word you've been killed 'cause you started throwing food at your uncle. Hehehe. That'd be hilarious. Not you being dead, I mean, but you throwing food at your stuck up uncle. 

Anyway, the dock is calling me. Not actually the dock, but mum yelling about the dock. Same thing, I suppose. 

Zack 

_Miss Nymphadora,___

_I am shocked an appalled to hear of your conduct at supper last Sunday. Have you no dignity?___

_Mum hasn't got any left, that's for sure. I heard her griping when James and I were in Diagon the other day. So of course I had to ask around and find out what happened. All I can say is, good on you! Keep up the good work, and maybe she'll get so mad she'll explode. James says that can't happen. He also says hi. But he's getting impatient, cause he wants to go shopping for his wedding with Evans. Can't think why. But I gotta go. Hope you can come, by the way. James has included an invitation for you with this.___

_Sirius_

Hello Nym, 

I'd say that I hope you're well, but judging by what you did to Sirius's mum last Sunday (yes, everyone knows about that now, your aunt loves to gossip), you uncle probably hasn't left you alive long enough to receive this. He hasn't given you lines to write or anything, has he? That was my grandfather's favorite punishment for me when I was bad. Copying out of the bible or, if I was really bad, the dictionary. Terrible. Not that I was ever bad. Model child and all that, of course. You know how it is. 

I'm glad to hear you managed to find all the books I instructed. So the librarian was surprised, was he? Can't say I am. Although I would almost imagine your uncle reads them nightly. But that's neither here not there. I expect that thesis done, you know. Even if your days are completely taken up writing lines as penitence, I'm not changing the due date. I also want a paper on Mistress Morgan's book and your work with it. I don't expect it to be as in depth as the other, but I want a full summary, plus your commentary, and a detailed explanation of what you did in making your bracelet. Let's make that due at the same time as your other paper, shall we? 

Your uncle must be wondering what you're doing, sending away such thick scrolls every week. I'd advise against telling him, although I suppose you could if you really wanted to. Don't see why you would, though. I wouldn't trust him as far as I can throw him, personally. But that's just me. 

Don't forget, I want those papers by Monday morning. 

Remus   



	19. Seek and Ye Shall Find

_And here it is, the next installment. More may or may not come soon, depending on how my schedule works out. I swear, posting takes as long as writing on this stupid thing._

_Anywho…_

The door bell at Malfoy Manor was rarely used. It reverberated through the whole house, summoning all its occupants and rousing all of its denizens, living, dead, or stuck in a forgotten painting. Expected guests were met, quietly and civilly, by a waiting butler, who opened the door in a way that was generally considered superior to all that waiting around outside while the host scurried from some distant chamber. It had decorum, prestige, all manner of quiet elegance. It had the added advantage of ensuring that uninvited guests had a great deal of difficulty obtaining entrance.

But when the gong sounded, reverberating all the way to Nym's tower, she dropped her book and sprinted for the door. Who ever had arrived must be either very important or completely ignorant of the Malfoys' ways, and either alternative assured her that they would be interesting. She hadn't expected any excitement until tomorrow, when her aunt had agreed to allow her to go to Diagon alley to meet Rick and buy her school supplies. She was far from adverse to encountering excitement early, however.

Her uncle, with all the dignity he could muster (which was quite a lot, flanked as he was by Madam Pince and two of the butlers) opened the door just as her foot touched the second last step. It swung wide, magic giving it perfect balance and soundless hinges, to reveal three grinning young men. Well, Nym conceded to herself as she felt a smile spread itself across her face, they might not be important, and they were probably well accustomed to the Malfoys' ways, but the Marauders were also extremely interesting.

"Hiya Lucius, old boy," Sirius said heartily, slapping his cousin's husband on the back in an entirely too cheerful manner. "How ya been? It's been ages, simply ages. So I thought to meself, why, Sirius old lad, you haven't been to see your dear family in forever. But no time like the present, eh Lucy?" His grin threatened to split his face in two.

Aunt Narcissa had just entered the hall and, seeing her cousin, stopped in her tracks. Nym thought she was having some trouble finding her voice. "Sirius," she managed at last, "what are you doing here?"

Remus interceded before Sirius could say anything, bowing low over Narcissa's hand. "Narcissa, my dear, you are looking absolutely splendid, as always. More beautiful all the time, I'm sure." Narcissa, Nym noted with interest, turned a very unique shade of red, like she was trying not to laugh, blush or start shrieking, all at once. Remus's grin was as wide as Sirius's.

James's threatened to outdo them both, however. He came and knelt before Nym, gazing up at her. "Miss Nymphadora, light of my poor life, pray allow me to escort you on this, your birthday." Nym was shocked. She hadn't told anyone when her birthday was, assuming, quite correctly in the case of her relatives, that no one would care. Her mother hadn't even sent a card, and she supposed her father had been forbidden to do so. Nym felt her cheeks heating, but couldn't help her smile becoming even wider.

There were no smiles from Lucius, though. He glared hatefully at the three boys. "I don't know what you three are up to, but I'll have no part of it."

"Why Lucy, you old codger, what'd'ya mean? We ain't up to nothing, so we ain't. And if you can't trust family, who can you trust, eh? I ask ya." Lucius's normally pale complexion had become ruddy.

James laughed, getting back on his feet. "We aren't up to anything, Lucius, you old bag," he said amicably. "Just trying to brighten the little lass's day."

"Why of all the.." but her uncle got no further.

"Come off it, Lucy, old bean," cut in Sirius, still in his role of the car salesman-come-relative. "Get over yourself."

"We're just here to take Nym out for her birthday," Remus said. "So if there are no more objections," and his tone said there had best be none, "we'll be off."

Narcissa started to protest, but James had already grabbed Nym's hand and was pulling her towards the door. Remus and Sirius fell in behind them, almost like guards. The door, perfectly balanced though it was, slammed behind them with a booming sound. Only then did the three boys lose control, their laughter drowning out Nym's giggles.

"Priceless, Paddy," James laughed. "Absolutely priceless. 'Lucy' yet."

"I thought that was a rather nice touch myself," Sirius admitted. "Although I have to say, I truly did admire the look on his face when you knelt in front of Nym."

James made a sweeping bow. "But we can't forget our dear Moony. That was impromptu, too, unless I'm much mistaken."

Remus shrugged. "Had to do something. Besides, I can't let you guys have all the fun."

"So what're we doing today?" Nym asked. Anything they did was likely to be fun compared to spending her days locked up in Malfoy Manor, a veritable lady in her secret tower, cut off from the world. It was also likely to be dangerous and hair raising and liable to make her old before her time. That was where the fun lay, of course, Nym reminded herself sternly. Having even questioned her motives like that showed Nym what horrible things her time at the Manor was doing to her. She was turning into a bloody prat, just like Narcissa!

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Moony here thought it was time we took you away from your theory and taught you some practical magic."

"Lessons?" Nym asked, unbelieving. Of course, lessons had always been fun with these three as her teachers, but they were still lessons. She'd been studying most of the summer already, when she wasn't flying. She didn't want to spend even more time at it; it was summer, after all!

James rolled his eyes. "No, we talked him out of that one. But, see, there's this challenge in the Daily Prophet. They've got set criteria for a team: four witches or wizards, only two can be over eighteen, can't be all witches or all wizards."

Nym looked at him searchingly. Yes, the four of them fit. Remus wouldn't be eighteen until September, so he just scraped by. Peter would have been excluded for all sorts of obvious reasons; he was rather on the slow side, over eighteen, and while Nym suspected he might be gay, that didn't qualify him as a witch. "What sort of challenge?" she asked guardedly. Not something her uncle approved of, of she would have heard about it before now.

"Typical wizard thinking," Remus said disparagingly. "Big castle somewhere in Wales, dragons and curses and such like, get in there, find a treasure, come back out."

"Find _a _treasure," Nym repeated, testing the phrase out. If Lucius had taught her something these past weeks, besides which fork top use, it was to speak exactly. "Not the treasure then. Just a treasure."

Remus nodded, his smirk suggesting he found James and Sirius's surprise amusing. He'd picked that up, and hadn't felt obliged to share that little tidbit. Well, he would have sooner or later, when it made the rest of them look extra stupid. Before their ignorance got them in trouble, of course, that went without saying. Remus might be a bit of a superior snot when it came to intelligence games, but he wasn't spiteful or malicious. "Exactly, Nym. Glad we have some intelligence on this team." He gave the other two boys a sweet, evil little smile. "Not like those two. All muscle and firepower, and nothing between their ears but fluff."

"Watch it, Moony," Sirius growled, though he smiled. His teeth seemed rather more pointed than usual, but then, that was the style nowadays. Sirius had made sure of that. He didn't just know styles; he created them, and he rather thought pointed teeth made him look dashing, especially when he was whipping around on that ridiculous bike of his. Nym thought they made him look like he needed an extra dose of garlic in his pasta.

A thought suddenly occurred to Nym, and as quickly as it did she wished it hadn't. "Why me?" she asked. Of course she wanted to go. It would be just like April Fools, or what they did to the first year Gryffindor boys, or those excursions into the Forbidden Forest. It might be her last chance to do something like that with these boys, who had become like older brothers to her, before they scattered across the country and farther, starting their new lives outside of school. But still… "Why not Lily?"

James flushed at that, as Remus and Sirius gave him sidelong looks. In a flash of insight, Nym realized it must have been his call to exclude Lily. Remus and Sirius wouldn't have wanted her along, but they'd have brought her if James had wanted it. But he hadn't. For some reason, he'd decided that Nym was the better choice to complete their team. "Lily's thinking is too…" James struggled to find the word, "too rigid," he finished at last. "She doesn't like breaking the rules. Not that she won't," he added scrupulously, "but there are rules it would never occur to her to break, because for her they aren't rules. They're… it's like that's the way things are, and she can't imagine them being any other way."

"What the poor love-struck sap _means_," Sirius said acidly, "is that if Lily were in a maze, she would try and find her way through. It would never occur to her to blast a hole through the wall and go through that."

"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Nym wanted to know. "Not that I object, but sometimes there are penalties for doing things like that."

"Ah," Remus said, tapping the side of his nose knowledgably, "but that would require that someone else thought of that first. Most people are like Lily; they assume that if they put a wall there, no one will try and walk through it. So they don't bother to make the rule, they just imply it."

"And an implied law is no law at all," Nym agreed in a rush of understanding.

"Exactly," James agreed, relief coloring his face. Of course he would have wanted Lily to come, Nym thought. But the other two wouldn't have liked it, and she would have been a liability in any case. Even James, love-blinded though he was, could see that. Which meant, as far as Nym could see, that they didn't expect her to have any of the problems Lily would have faced. It was a nice feeling, knowing they held her in that high of esteem. Not just that they liked her; they liked Peter well enough, and James certainly loved Lily. But rather, they respected her magical abilities and her intelligence as well. Of course, there was probably some pride in that respect as well. They had, after all, taught her most of what she knew.

"So what are we waiting for?" she demanded, eager to be off. The castle sounded fun. It would be challenging, but no one had encountered a team quite like the Marauders. Well, the Marauders plus one.

"For you to finish chatting, silly girl," Remus chided. "Now, take my hand. We're Apparating to Diagon Alley, where they have the Portkey to take us to the castle. We can't Apparate there, blast them. Now, I want you to pay attention to what I'm doing. You should feel the magical fluctuations, and be able to figure out how to manipulate them."

With some trepidation, Nym took his hand. Remus was a great wizard, she didn't doubt, but you weren't supposed to Apparate until you were eighteen. It was nasty business all around if you got caught, because generally when you got caught, it was because you had splinched yourself. And while she was sure Remus was decent enough at Apparating, she'd never heard of anyone being able to take another person along with them when they Apparated. It would cause all sorts of problems, she was sure. When she'd asked if she could learn, one rainy day when the hope of getting away from the castle and the weather, at least for a little while, had been strong, Remus had shown her some of the theory. Her head had felt like it was going to explode just looking at the swirling numbers and figures. Of course, most wizards didn't understand a fraction of the theory, but everyone knew that Apparation was tricky stuff.

She closed her eyes, fighting down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She would concentrate and learn this, damn if she didn't. And then she'd figure out how to Apparate into Hogwarts, where everyone said it was impossible. She'd be the best damn witch there ever was, and she'd show those smarmy Malfoys. Calling her mother a blood traitor and her father a mudblood, poncing around just because they could recite their lineage back to when they'd been burning other magical folk at the stake to hide their own magical natures. Lady Skye had been right; there was pride in having old blood, but it wasn't just for the sake of having it. You had to use the damn stuff, and damn if Nym Tonks didn't plan on doing just that. So when Remus Apparated, dragging her through space, time and magic to Diagon Alley, she felt the magic shift around her, and she knew how it was done. She wouldn't try it herself – it was slippery stuff, and once it had almost lashed out of Remus's control, although he didn't seem to have noticed – but she was sure she'd have been able to, if she'd dared. It was so easy, she realized suddenly. All magic was. You just had to think at it a certain way. All that wand waving and incantations was just frippery; it wasn't actually necessary to get the job done. Oh, it made sure the job was done right, and that the wizard wasn't blasted into next month with tentacles growing out of his head, but it was like wandless magic: if you didn't mind the consequences, then the job would get itself done. You might not be able to stand for a week, you'd be so drained, but the thing would get done.

With a 'pop' they arrived in Diagon Alley. They were quickly ushered away from their arrival point by a young woman with a permanent scowl and overlong nails, only to be replaced by James and he, in turn, by Sirius. If the woman thought anything of Remus Apparating with another person in tow, she said nothing, but Nym thought she detected a hint of unease in the way the woman's eyes narrowed whenever her gaze swept over the two of them.

For her part, Nym ignored the woman, and set her gaze about the room. It was mostly bare, lit by a few crystal globes in ornate holders. Walls, floor and ceiling were all done in the same blue-grey marble, the only break in its smooth lines the dark blue pentagon smoothly scored on the floor, in which they had appeared. Of course, a pentagon wasn't necessary, and Nym felt it to be even the littlest bit foolish, but some people took aesthetics over safety any day.

All present and accounted for, James led them through the tall golden doors that dominated one wall, and into a white marbled room as large as a quidditch field. Here, at least, there was some life, as witches, wizards, and indistinct _somethings_ hurried to and fro, intent on business that mostly seemed to involve rushing around. Desks dotted the floor in no particular pattern, as though the occupants had just settled down there without any regard for anyone else. Most of them creaked slightly under the weight of paper, books, and whatever else had been dumped on them.

One desk stood above the others, rising high enough that Nym was sure its small occupant must need a ladder to reach his seat. It was empty of clutter, in the austere way that said 'Visitor's Desk' to Nym's mind. James approached it with his usual cocky swagger, stopping a ways away so he didn't have to tilt his head back to look the little man in the eye.

He waited for about a minute before the little man was ready to admit defeat and acknowledge his presence. "Yes?" he squeaked tiredly. He looked a bit like one of the Gringotts goblins, but no where near so nasty. He looked, perhaps, like a goblin that had been defeated by life, and decided to give up his wild ways and turn human, if such a thing were possible.

"We are here to answer the challenge," James said, as though challenging the castle, the little man, and the whole world.

The little man looked him up and down, and seemed rather unimpressed. "This was intended to be a family event," he said, looking at them through his round little glasses.

"But that wasn't specifically stated anywhere," James said, still amicable. "Besides, we are family. All purebloods are related one way or another." His look, bland and challenging, dared the little man to contradict either this or the fact that they were all pureblooded wizards. It was very much a look like that Lucius would use, and it worked wonders on the little man; he actually closed his mouth, though only to scowl deeply.

Sirius, standing next to Nym, elbowed her. "Take this," he hissed, pressing something smooth and thin into her fingers without looking at her. Nym closed her fingers around it, feeling the smooth hardness that, together with the shape, meant it could be only one thing.

"I've got mine," she hissed back, still watching James and the little man.

"It's fake," was all he said. What on earth was she going to do with a fake wand? Nym wondered. She had no further time to consider this, for James had succeeded in talking the little man around.

"Fine," the little man huffed. "Your want please, sir," he added, with a particular amount of scorn on the 'sir'. James handed him a wand, thin and well made but not, Nym noticed, the same color as the wand he normally used. Remus followed suit, then Sirius, each placing a wand Nym had never seen before on the desk in front of the little man before turning to look at her expectantly. Standing on her tiptoes, Nym placed the fake wand Sirius had given her carefully on the desk, hoping her own would not slip out of her belt or show through her robes as she did. The man nodded in satisfaction and handed James a slim stick, 'for when you fail". James took it with a cruel smile, and took one of several smooth marbles sitting in a basket on the desk.

"Alright lads, here we go," Sirius murmured, laying a finger on the smooth marble. Remus copied him. When Nym put her hand on the marble, the world jerked, seeming to spin in the most unpleasant way. When it stopped, the four were still standing, though just, and the world had changed completely. Some magic had caused the sky to appear dark and chilly, no doubt to enhance the effect that the dark castle on the hill above them caused.

I'm learning to Apparate, Nym thought to herself, if only so I never have to use a Portkey again. Sirius looked around with evident satisfaction. "What do you think, Prongs? Gonna bring Evans here for a picnic later?"

James sniffed. "Quite. Absolutely lovely, don'cha'know." Nym giggled, and James hid the marble away in his pocket. "Well, let's get going. There a time limit, Moony?"

"Four hours. Enough time to demolish this heap completely. Look at it – it's half illusion!"

Nym blinked, trying to see the castle more clearly. It looked solid enough. But then she remembered what James had told her about spotting illusions. Most wizards were lazy, he'd said, or unimaginative. Either they'd create something perfect, without a crack or a spot of dirt, even if it was supposed to be an ancient and crumbling castle. Or they're simply copy something else, as was the case here. Half the castle looked exactly like the other half. The only problem was, Nym couldn't tell which half was which, and said so.

"Bit of a stumper there," Sirius admitted. "I suppose we could test it out…" he let it hang. One of the favorite tests for aurors apparently involved making figure out which of three doors was an illusion. If they tried to open the wrong one, they got some nasty magic for their mistake. Sirius wasn't about to risk making that mistake here.

James squinted up at the castle. "Easy, mate. Watch this." He stooped, scooping up a rock off the ground, and hurled it at the castle. The stone hit and bounced back and, a ways away, another stone bounced off the castle and disappeared. He nodded in satisfaction. "This half's real."

Sirius laughed delightedly. "Good on you, James. Proof there's more than fluff in these here handsome heads."

"In James's, at any rate," Nym agreed. "On the topic of mazes, is it worth trying the door, or should we just try to blast our way in?"

"Door? What door?" Sirius asked, innocently. His wand appeared in his hand, and suddenly there was a gaping hole in the side of the castle, followed by a muffled boom as the rocks tried to figure out why there were no longer there. "You mean this door?"

"This is so easy when you have a wand," James marveled. "We should have tried this last year."

"Didn't have anyone over eighteen to take with us," Sirius reminded him.

They moved through the castle, dissolving any walls or doors that stood in their way. "There's some hefty magic on this place," Remus observed at one point. "Must have taken them forever to make it all go back to the way it was once people leave." After a time they came to a central courtyard, its stones going green with mold and mildew.

"Now where?" Nym asked, looking around. They seemed to be at a major turning point in the challenge. Go up to the tower, down to the dungeon, or straight into another part of the castle.

"Down," Sirius said. "The treasure'll be in the dungeons. We're not talking about wizards with imagination, here."

"I don't know about that," Remus said slowly. "I heard Prewett and Dumbledore had a hand in this one. I say up. It's the last one people would take."

"Compromise and go straight," said James, shrugging. The three looked at Nym. Of course, she thought distractedly. That's why there's four on the team. You could do it with two, or even one, but you can't make decisions with four. You'll just stand around and argue it out, or you'll pick a leader, but no one will be happy with that.

She closed her eyes, trying to think, and felt it. All around her, there was a thickness to the air, strange currents that seemed to buzz past her, feeling of colors. It was strange and indescribable. It was, she realized, the feel of Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor. She didn't feel it in Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or on the train. Just in the old, intensely magical buildings. It was a bit like Apparating with Remus had been, though nowhere near so strong. But to her left there was a buzzing, a feeling of an extra dimension to the thickness, almost a pink cloud in her senses.

She turned towards it, walking with her eyes closed, and didn't open them until the boys' cries of surprise abruptly cut off. Light flooded her eyes, more than anywhere else in the dreary castle, causing them to water. She grabbed her wand hurriedly. She was alone except for an enormous cockatrice, perched on a nest of diamonds and glaring at her. Killing the thing wasn't an option; it was too intensely magical, and too beautiful by far. She doubted she could stun it, even. It looked as though any spell she sent its way would bounce harmlessly off.

Behind her, there was a faint noise, the sort that she would have imagined jello making when you cut it. The three boys appeared around her. Sirius swept her up in a fierce hug. "You gave us quite the scare, youngster," he growled. "What did you think you were playing at, walking through walls?"

"Not now, Paddy," Remus muttered, his eyes fixed on the monster before them. He whistled softly. "That's Dumbledore's work, and no mistake."

"So we grab a diamond and run for it?" Sirius asked, edging towards it. Remus grabbed him back, pulling him against the wall with the rest of them.

"Haven't you been listening to me, Paddy? This is Dumbledore's work! You have to think about it first."

"What's there to think about?" Sirius grumbled. "There's a monster sitting on a treasure. Classic."

James shook his head, suddenly. "It ain't. Think about it, Paddy. We came to a fork. Did we go up, down, or straight?"

Sirius looked at him as though he were batty. "We turned left, moron."

"Exactly," James said. "So, do we kill the thing, knock it out, or just grab a diamond and run?"

"We turn left?" Sirius hazarded. "I don't follow you."

Nym thought she began to see what James was getting at. "There's a fourth choice. Something that wouldn't normally occur to us. And, since it's Dumbledore…." she hesitated. "Something crazy."

"We went over this," Remus added. "We don't grab _the _treasure. We get _a _treasure. So not the diamonds. There's something else we need to get."

"Dumbledore to a tee," James grumbled. "What else is there?"

"There's some rocks," Sirius volunteered, "and some more valuable rocks. Or we could kidnap the monster, is that what you're suggesting?"

Nym hardly heard him. She was staring at the glittering monster in front of her. It was so beautiful, its plumage glistening in the light. "Remus, how much is a cockatrice feather worth?" she asked.

Remus glanced at her thoughtfully. "Nothing. They're hard to get, and no one's ever found a use for them that makes it worth the risk."

"But that doesn't mean there isn't a use," James protested. "I mean, look at warewolf fangs. No one uses them, but they're a deal more potent than dragon ones."

"They're also a sight more difficult to come by," Remus said, bitterly. "Seeing as you can't kill a bloody warewolf without time in Azkaban."

Nym slipped her wand inside her robes. She didn't really know Professor Dumbledore, nor Prewett either, but she had the strangest feeling that they didn't mean for wands to be used for this. In fact, she got the distinct impression that a wand would only make it harder. Prewett, at least, would be expecting someone to do what they had done with the wands.

The boys' argument faded into the background as she approached the creature in front of her. It cocked its head, regarding her with a brilliant golden eye. "Hello," she tried, hesitantly, holding out a hand. The cockatrice lowered its green feathered head until it was at a level with her own.

"Caw?" it offered. Nym smiled and reached out to touch its beak, feeling almost unreal.

"Can I have a feather?" she asked. "Please?"

The creature cocked its head to the other side, its raptor gaze seeming to see right through her. Then it turned away from her, plucking a loose feather from its shoulder with its beak. Then, in a sudden violent movement, a taloned foot slashed out, slitting her chest. Nym staggered back, shocked to see her own blood welling up out of the long line that ran diagonally across her chest. She put a hand to it, staring in disbelief at the blood that came away on her fingers. The monster still stared at her, its golden eyes seeming to glow. Behind her, blurred shoats sounded as the boys raced towards her.

They caught her as she fell, wands drawn. The cockatrice made a soft sound it its throat, then lowered its beak to Nym's shivering body, laying the feather it still held in its beak along the slash. Nym cried out when the cold feather touched her skin, seeming to burn through her. More blood welled, completely covering the feather. She put a hand up to feel it, but the feather seemed to have disappeared. Her fingers found only her own blood, and beneath that, skin. She pushed, just a bit hesitantly. She'd just had her chest slashed open. Shouldn't she be feeling at least a little bit of pain?

Around her, the boys were arguing fiercely. James and Sirius had their wands out, ready to curse the bird-creature into oblivion. "No!" Nym cried, startling even herself with the strength of her voice. "Don't!"

James turned back to her. "Nym," he sounded pained. Remus bent over her, mopping up the blood with a length of cloth he appeared to have conjured.

"Hush, Nym," he murmured. Then he stopped. "I don't believe this! James, Sirius, come here." At Remus's shocked cry, the other two turned back to their companions, kneeling as Remus did next to Nym. She smiled at them a bit hazily. "It's closed up. Look at this." Nym felt him wipe up some more blood. Looking down, she was shocked to see skin peaking through the thick layer of blood. She was filthy, and covered in her own blood, but all that remained of the slash was a long white line.

The cockatrice cooed in a way Nym could only describe as pleased, and pulled a feather from its tail, which it dropped on Nym's stomach before backing up and settling onto its diamond nest. Nym sat up, lifting the feather. It was longer than the other had been, and as brightly colored, but it didn't glitter quite the same way, almost as if there was something missing.

"Let's get out of here," James muttered, pulling the marble out of his pocket. Heartily agreeing, Nym put her hand on it, followed less than a heart beat later by the other two boys. With a jerk, the world dissolved, and Nym was spinning, spinning away to land with a thump in the grey marble hall where they had first appeared in Diagon Alley. The thin cheeked witch was still there, giving them her disapproving stare.

Sirius pulled Nym to her feet, steadying her as she worked to stand as James and Remus looked on with concern. "I'm alright," she assured them. "Just shaken."

They nodded, seeming to take this for granted. With Sirius carrying Nym on his back, they left through the golden doors once more, entering the bustling white room. The little man looked up expectantly, and seemed disappointed to see them all there. With great solemnity, James placed the marble, the emergency call wand, and the cockatrice feather on the desk. The little man wrote a label for the feather and attached it to their prize. It disappeared as soon as he let it go.

"Award dinner next Saturday," he muttered darkly, handing back their wands. "Results then. Ministry ball room, seven in the evening." He turned away, and the four made their way back to the grey transportation point, dreading Lucius and Narcissa's reaction to Nym's misadventure.


	20. Stupid Birthdays

_Updated __December 15, 2004__: Merry Christmas (or whatever)_

The sky was only beginning to darken when, with three faint 'pop's, Nym and the Marauders Apparated in front of Malfoy Manor's twisted black gates. Sirius, at least, seemed nervous about going any farther. "It's alright for you lot," he muttered. "They aren't your family."

"Come on, Paddy," James said, trying to be cheerful. "We're all cousins to one degree or another."

"But them in there's first degree. And if I show up with Nym looking like that, _I'm _going to get the first degree." This was so out of character for Sirius that Nym, despite the fatigue and strain of the day that threatened to overwhelm her, could only stare at him.

Remus sighed. "I'll take her in. Don't worry about it."

"We should come…" James began. 'Don't Leave Your Mates in the Cacky Alone', that was the motto of the Marauders, it seemed. If Remus was going to take the fall for this, they all would.

But Remus was having none of it. "Get going you two. Lily will be waiting for you, Prongs, and unless I miss my guess, Paddy, you had a date with that Johnson girl. Well?" He looked at them expectantly, before sighing. "We'll be fine. Even Lucius would have a hard time doing anything to me." He grinned wolfishly, reminding them all of what he was.

Still the other boys hesitated. "It don't feel right," Sirius muttered. "Leaving you to take the fall for it."

Remus tutted, waving them away. "I'm not taking the fall for anything. Don't worry about it. Now get." With worried faces, the other two boys disappeared. Once they were gone, Remus sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair. "I love them both like brothers, but sometimes they are so trying." With Nym leaning heavily on his arm, they made their slow way down the long drive towards the manor house.

"What could Lucius do, to make Sirius so nervous?" Nym asked, not without trepidation, as they neared the enormous front doors.

"Actually, nothing. Oh, he might snarl and snap a bit, yell at us a bit maybe, but he can't actually do anything. Of course, you might be confined to your room or some such, but somehow I don't think he'll even try that." He gave Nym a small smile. "You'd probably hex him into next week."

Nym smiled tiredly. "I'm too tired. I couldn't possibly send him farther than three days along."

Lupin laughed, a short, barking laugh, then he stopped walking. "Got a present for you, Nym. The three of us decided that you were the best one to takes these, and, well, we just think it's for the best." He reached under his cloak and pulled out a thin package, which he handed to her with a shy smile. Nym smiled back, touched that her three adoptive brothers had thought of her. "We'd best go," Remus said, with a meaningful look at the huge doors. "I doubt Lucius will mind over much that you got a bit scraped up, but Heaven help us all if you're later for supper." They climbed the steps, but despite his words, Remus hesitated with his hand over the door bell.

"Oh, foo," Nym sighed, unable to think of any other word to describe her feelings. She grabbed the heavy door handle and pulled, swinging the massive slab of wood and metal wide open before marching, with only a little assistance from Remus, into the front hall.

The foyer was as it always was, vast and empty and strangely forbidding. Nym didn't give it a thought, but marched straight on towards the marble stairs, stopping only when she realized the housekeeper was waiting with fists on her hips, blocking Nym's route as squarely as her large bulk could manage.

"Just what do you think you're doing, missy?" she demanded, her voice somewhere between a hiss and a shriek. "Think you can traipse off and do whatever you like, then waltz back in here as if you own the place? Well, the master and missus may be content to let you run wild, but I'm not having it, you hear?" She reached out, though whether to slap Nym or pinch her, Nym couldn't have said.

By this point Nym was tired, and sore, and hungry. She rather thought she'd almost died earlier, and was now marching around covered in blood and fueled on pure adrenaline. Something within her snapped, and she swatted the woman's hand away coldly. "My name, _Madam_, is not 'missy'. It is Nymphadora Tonks." Then she smiled as sweetly as she knew how. "But don't let the name fool you. "I'm a Black and a Malfoy as well, and a dozen other things besides, including a witch. And you, _Madam_, are a squib. Get out of my way." The housekeeper stepped back, stunned to hear such a speech from the rather unassuming little girl that, up until that point, she had bullied unmercifully.

Nym swept by her, the effect spoiled only slightly by the way she lent on Remus's arm and the thudding of her heart that gave away her agitation. Walking up the stairs, gripping Remus and the thick stone banister for support, Nym felt lightheaded. She'd actually don't it! She'd stood up to that horrible housekeeper, and she'd got away with it. She wasn't properly sure why she'd called the woman a squib, but it had seemed right. Now that she thought of it, something within her knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Madam Pierce was indeed a squib, kept on more out of condensation than anything else. This, the message ran, is what the Malfoys are better than. This is fit only to wipe a Malfoy's boots. Nym felt herself shuddering. What a terrible place this was.

"Are you feeling alright, Nym?" Remus asked with concern.

Nym looked up at her friend, tears filling her eyes but not spilling. Her lips trembled as they tried to frame an answer. "She's such a terrible person. But, oh Remus! Am I terrible for saying that to her? It was so cruel, and I…" she sniffed miserably, "I actually meant it!"

Remus stopped her and pulled her into a hug. "Hush up, there's a girl." He looked down at her, smiling his quiet, understanding smile. "You're not a horrible person. You've had a long day, and she wasn't making it any better. Come to that, she did deserve it."

"No one deserves to be talked to like that," Nym said miserably.

Remus shrugged. "I don't know about that, Nym. At least you regret it." His smile broadened slightly. "You have no idea how much you scared me there. That sounded like something Lucius would say."

Nym sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "Was I that bad?"

Now Remus laughed. "Well, you'd certainly never catch Lucius doing _that_," he said, handing her a handkerchief. "And I doubt he'd feel sorry for telling off a miserable old bag, either. Or anyone else," he added quietly. Then he smiled a little brighter. "But you certainly came across as very much the pure blood. Are you sure you shouldn't be in Slytherin?"

Nym sniffed again and rolled her eyes. "Please." She smiled hesitantly up at him. "I'm going to catch it for that, aren't I?"

Remus shrugged. "Maybe. Who can tell, with Malfoys? For all I know, they might give you a golden plaque and declare you a true member of the family."

Smiling more broadly, Nym shivered theatrically. "Anything but that."

"What's this?" a voice demanded, deeply disapproving. "You aren't planning to take this… boy… up to your room, are you?" Nym looked up, realizing that they'd arrived at the portrait of Lord Admiral Skye. She smiled tentatively at the Admiral. As a guard for her door, there was none better, but he was very rigid when it came to propriety. She always carried her robes around nowadays, after the dressing-down she'd received for wearing pants like a man or a woman who was 'no better than she ought to be'.

"No sir," she said as respectfully as she could. "Master Lupin was only ensuring that I did not collapse of fatigue enroute from the entrance."

Remus, for his part, gave the Admiral a very dignified bow, only the corners of his mouth showing his amusement. "About the awards dinner," he said, as though it had just occurred to him. "It is generally expected that you bring, if not a date, at least an escort. We'll come pick you up at quarter to seven, so make sure he's here by then. Oh," he added, just before he turned away, "it's probably better if he comes from a wizarding family. Most people won't care, of course, but your aunt and uncle might. Just a friendly caution." He gave her a hug, much to Admiral Skye's disapproval, and walked off with a "I'll see myself out. You clean up and get to bed."

"Your uncle has guests for supper," the Admiral informed Nym coolly before allowing the door to appear. Nym nodded, understanding all too well the ramifications of his words. Heaven forbid that she be allowed to eat a quiet, private supper in the kitchen, the way she might have been allowed were she younger than her now twelve years. No, she had to wear dress robes, and sit up straight, and chew with her mouth closed, and sip her watered wine delicately, and make pleasant conversation that could not possibly offend anyone for hours. It would be tedious and trying and all the things Nym had no patience for in her present state. Suppressing a sigh, she made her way up the tightly wound staircase to her room, trying to limit her yawns. Yawning, she had been told, was the height of bad manners. It implied you found the company boring, rather than that you might, possibly, be tired. From the way her uncle saw things, one would think there was no such thing as a bodily function, but rather a series of carefully calculated actions. Even eating was a social grace, rather than a necessity of life.

Nym very conscientiously put her wand on the dresser. If she left it upstairs, there could be no temptation to blast one of her uncle's guests into next week. Well, there might be the temptation, but not the means. Besides, she thought tiredly, it was proper etiquette, damn Lucius.

She showered slowly, letting the hot water ease her tired muscles. The recent scar stood out livid and white across her chest. Nym inspected it critically, noting the way the scarred tissue seemed to have spread out from the simple white line it had been before. In her experience, scars just didn't do that. But then, she hadn't seen many magical ailments. Maybe this was normal for scars caused by being mauled by large magical beasts. Perhaps there would be something in the library. She could check after… but no, she couldn't, could she? Supper would last at least three hours, at the rate it was likely to go, and longer if there were many guests, and her aunt expected her to help serve drinks. There was no help for it, then. It would have to wait until tomorrow… no, tomorrow she was going into Diagon Alley with Rick to shop for school supplies. And of course, Aunt Narcissa would want to go shopping for the baby afterwards. Drat. Well, she'd find time, one way or another.

Suppressing yet another sigh, she toweled her hair dry and hurried through dressing. She'd look tidy enough, nothing amazing, and it was better to catch trouble for having a wrinkle on the hem of her robe than for being late to supper.

Dressed to her own satisfaction and that of Lady Skye's portrait, Nym fairly flew down the stairs and hallways towards the front entrance hall, slowing to a dignified walk only when the ornate marble banister of the main staircase came into view. Running in the corridors, tut tut, she thought wryly, unconsciously echoing Evans's frequent admonitions. Well, there would be no Evans this year to stop her dashing about all she liked. There would be no James or Sirius to snatch her out of trouble's jaws at the last instant either, though. Somehow, the negative far outweighed any positive she saw in Evans leaving.

Nym made it to the drawing room a heartbeat before her frantic aunt set out in search of her. "Nymphadora! Oh thank Merlin you're here!" Narcissa cried, with unusual drama. "So many of your uncle's friends are coming tonight…" she wrung her hands. "Thank Merlin!" she cried again.

Nym smiled tiredly at her distraught aunt. Narcissa wasn't a bad woman, just generally stuck up and judgmental. Nym wouldn't expand that description to include Lucius, but she'd tolerate him, if only because he'd given her no reason to hate him, as yet. Certainly, he looked down on her family because her mother had not married into another pure blooded wizard clan, and he treated her like a stupid little savage, the way the British had the natives when they conquered India so long ago, all condensation and worldly airs, but being an insufferable git didn't make him evil, just, well, insufferable. Still, she appreciated the use of his library and quidditch pitch, if nothing else. And, she suddenly vowed to herself, she'd come back, if only to make sure her cousin did not grow up to be like their father. Better a twittering fool like Narcissa, even, than a stupid prat like Lucius. "Please calm down, Aunty," Nym said, using the closest thing to an informal address that she ever would to anyone on her mother's side of her family, except of course Sirius. "Everything will go just fine, I promise you."

Narcissa sighed, pressing her wrist to her forehead. "Oh, I do hope so, dear. But some of them… oh dear, I hate to speak ill of anyone, but they can be so trying." Her lip quivered with indecision. "Nymphadora, dear, there is something you need to know before our guests arrive. My grandfather has decided to bring along my cousin Regulus." Nym felt her blood run cold. Damn it all, why had she been such a fool as to leave her wand up in her room? She didn't bloody well trust her uncle's guests, not any of them, and it was damn foolish to leave her wand up in her room. "I know you dislike him, darling, but there was nothing I could do. He'll be seated at the opposite end of the table from you, if it is any consolation."

Nym tried to smile bravely at her aunt, but was afraid she failed miserably. "Is there anyone else coming who has a personal grudge against me?" she asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice and keep her tone light.

"No," Narcissa said, alarmed anew. "They are all people we have had for supper here before, who have spoken highly of you to your uncle." That, Nym saw in her aunt's eyes, was not the full truth, only an interpretation of it. But it seemed to be a safeguard for her life, so she would ask no further. "Except… I don't know that you have met the Snapes or the Pettigrews." Nym's voice ran cold. Snivellus and Wormtail. Coupled with Regulus, she might be lucky to escape tonight with her life. Oh, Wormtail had no great personal grudge against her, but he seemed to think she had taken his place with his idols. Jealousy, Nym knew, could be a dangerous thing. He'd never tried anything before, only a few snide comments, but then, Sirius or James had always been around before. And Snivellus… she'd been witness to his humiliation no few times. She'd even helped it along once or twice. And 'revenge', Nym knew, was the first word in a Slytherin's personal dictionary.

"I have met a Snape and a Pettigrew," Nym said, carefully.

"Oh dear," was all Narcissa said. It did not seem a good sign to Nym. Some birthday this was turning out to be.


	21. Of Dinner Parties and Suchlike

_For those of you demanding Deatheaters…._

When their dinner guests arrived, in ones and twos, rarely in larger groups, Nym made every effort to be charming. This did not mean, as it had back home with her parents, that she laughed and chatted with the guests, making them feel welcome in her home. No, here it meant she was carefully and exactly polite, that she kept her tongue in check and her face calm and empty, that she was, in short, the perfect young lady of high society.

Most of the guests, for their part, ignored her, which seemed their way of showing regard. Had she met with disproval, she would have heard it from all sides, a regular tongue lashing from people she had never met before. A few gave her cool nods, acknowledgement of her progress as a good hostess. A young man, a few years older than her and evidently in some sort of apprentice position to the creepy Mr. Rookwood – who apparently worked in the Department of Mysteries, and Nym had always hoped would get lost in the strange, twisting tunnels where he worked, or swallowed by some hideous beast therein, but so far neither had happened – actually gave her a small, half hearted smile, as thought to say 'well, you're stuck here too? Imagine that! We'll both have to make the best of it, won't we?' Nym instantly disliked him. It wasn't just that anyone who could tolerate creepy Mr. Rookwood for any length of time must be absolutely and without question a twisted person; there was a strange light in the young man's eyes, the feverish sort of light Nym sometimes saw at church on Sundays, when the highly repentant sinners scrambled to be the first in line to receive the priest's blessing.

Macnair, a good friend of Lucius, seemed about to stop and talk to her. From across the room, Nym was sure she felt the ice of her uncle's glare as it blazed past her and froze the young man in his tracks. Without a word, Macnair turned and seemed to decide that what he had really wanted all along was one of the crystal wine flutes the butler was serving. In fact, his expression said, if the butler might happen to know where anything a touch stronger could possibly be, Macnair would be his best friend for life.

More arrived, surely more than Nym remembered ever having to dinner before. Most were younger, perhaps thirty or so, and Nym supposed they must be school friends of her uncle. All swept in with their long black cloaks, and longer names, trying to look farther down their nose at people than everyone else. The black robes at Hogwarts had never bothered Nym. There was something about that black that was comforting. It was a studious black, the sort of black that said 'I was too busy digging through the library for some lost old tome to bother much with my outfit, but black goes with anything, doesn't it?' The black of these clothes was a different sort of black, one that whispered to Nym of dark meetings and secrets and her great-uncle's funeral, and the tight-lipped priest that had thrown dirt into the grave with an expression that had seemed uncaring and untouchable.

It was strange to think how many of these people had once passed through Hogwarts's great halls. Their names, announced in a deadpan voice by one of the butlers, buzzed through Nym's head, echoes of names she heard tossed back and forth at school, or written on plaques in the trophy room. Avery, Nott, Rosier, Lestrange, Karkaroff, Travers, Mulciber, Dolohov, Crabbe, Goyle. And names that Nym dreaded to hear, that made her feel like shriveling up or hiding in the shadows, had she not felt her uncle's compelling gaze on her, silently telling her to stand up straight and behave like a Malfoy, goddammit, not a spineless Black. There they were; Snape, Pettigrew. Black.

Regelus and his grandfather arrived at the last moment, just seconds before the guests were called in to supper. It was an insult or sorts, one Nym was sure Lucius carefully noted and stored away in that ice-cool head of his, but at the same time it was a relief. There would be no time for Regulus to do her harm before supper, at least. Despite that, he seemed intent on doing so, turning away from his grandfather with a word when he spotted Nym. He had almost reached her when another figure appeared at her side. The young man was perhaps a year older than Sirius, tanned and lean as James, though more heavily muscled about the shoulders. Alone of all the guests, he had a broad grin which he flashed about indiscriminately.

"Miss Nymphadora?" he inquired, giving her a bow that was just right to be mocking, and a grin that said he mocked the formality of the gathering, not her. She nodded, turning to face him but keeping a careful watch on the approaching Regulus. It would be just like that bastard to attack her from behind while she was talking to someone else. "Ludo Bagman, at your service."

Nym couldn't help smiling in return. How had this young man, seemingly energetic and cheerful, ever ended up in a place like one of her uncle's formal dinners? "A pleasure, Mr. Bagman."

He waved the words away with a laugh, but cordially offered his arm. "Please, none of that Mr. Bagman stuff. Makes me feel a right old duffer. Your uncle has asked me to be your companion for dinner tonight. If," he added hastily, "you have no objections?" Perhaps he was not so at ease here as he pretended.

With a last, worried glance at Regulus, Nym nodded, smiling. "I think I should like that."

Narcissa caught them just before they entered the dining room, moving at Nym's side for a moment. "I slipped some pepper up potion into your goblet, darling. You look dead on your feet." Nym smiled her thanks at her aunt. It wasn't concern for her that had prompted the action, she was sure, but concern that she might faint during her uncle's dinner, but she appreciated it none the less.

Bagman raised an eyebrow when Nym looked up at him. "A little early in the evening for you to be needing one of those, isn't it, even for a youngster like you?" Nym tried not to take offence at his words, putting on her sunniest, most insincere smile.

"Oh no. It's been a terribly long day. It was my birthday, you see," she added, as Bagman pulled back her chair for her, "and some friends took me to the Ministry contest."

Bagman was suddenly very interested. "You don't say? I wanted to take part in that, myself, but the coach wouldn't give me time off to try. I play Beater for the Wisborn Wasps, you see," he explained. "How was it? I'd heard it was a trial and a half. Friends, did you say? You seem a bit young to be consorting with anyone over eighteen, if you'll forgive my saying."

Nym giggled, remembering just in time to cover her mouth with her hand, as was 'only seemly and proper', according to her aunt. "It _was _a trial, to be sure. The creators did a magnificent job."

Bagman nodded enthusiastically. "I heard they quite outdid themselves this year. Funny thing, though, Gideon Prewett, you'll know him, of course, Head of Gryffindor House back at Hogwarts, strangest bloke I ever met except maybe that headmaster of theirs, anyway, helped design the thing, and then told the Prophet he didn't think it would be enough."

Nym paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Pardon?" she tried. She was quickly learning that it could be quite difficult to get meaning out of Bagman's excited chatter.

"Prewett, that crazy old bat," Nym narrowed her eyes at that, but Bagman didn't seem to notice, "got interviewed by the Daily Prophet. He said the challenge this year was the toughest it had ever been. But, nutter that he was, he said he didn't think it was tough enough."

"Why's that?" Nym asked, trying to hide her interest. Too much interest in anything was frowned upon in Malfoy Manor.

Bagman shrugged easily. "Couldn't say, really. He seemed to think the competition was going to be stepped up a few notches this year. Well, maybe it is," again the shrug, "but the Prophet's team will win again, you see if they don't. They have every year since they banned the Ministry and Hogwarts from sending teams from their staff."

"Really," Nym commented. "I would have thought Gringotts would have a strong showing."

Bagman looked at her in surprise. "They don't let goblins compete."

Nym stopped herself from rolling her eyes, but only just. "Not them, of course. I meant the curse-breakers."

"Oh, them," Bagman sighed rather theatrically. "Funny thing, that. They always lose on a technicality. Them and the Auror's college." Nym thought she detected a slight chill pass through the room when Bagman mentioned the Aurors, an almost imperceptible dip in the noise level. "They'll be tied for first, or so close as to make no difference, and then they'll protest each others' scores on technicalities. Knock each other out of the top spots, and the Prophet staff grab the gold, as it were." As he talked, the tension seemed to ebb away in the room, as people realized he was talking about some silly little nothing.

Some people were still listening, though, because creepy Mr. Rookwood, across from Bagman, decided to chime in. "Saint Mungo's could win in a flash, if it ever occurred to them to enter."

His assistant, one Bartholomew Crouch, laughed shortly, the laugh that seemed to be the trademark of Lucius's friends. "Impossible, sir. They're too high minded for that sort of competition."

"Besides," Nott chimed in, "they have all the answers, didn't you know? Just in case someone needs rescuing and," he smiled viciously, "putting back together."

Nym gave a delicate, lady-like shiver. She'd found it an easy way to stop a conversation, and perhaps then Nott and creepy Mr. Rookwood would lose interest in her. "Please, let's not discuss that over supper." Nott seemed content to let it go at that, and turned to talk to Travers on his other side, but creepy Mr. Rookwood leveled Nym a hard stare.

"I could have sworn I heard you say you partook of this challenge, young lady," he said severely. "Surely it cannot distress you to merely talk about it." He was challenging her, she knew. He suspected she was hiding something – you could comment that it looked like rain, and creepy Mr. Rookwood would see an ulterior motive – and he seemed determined to find out what it was.

Nym studied the fish on her plate intently. "I did, sir."

"But you do not wish to talk about it?" he pressed. "Why ever not? Surely you did well, as befits a _Black_." He put a certain sneer on her last name, causing the elder Black present, Nym's great-grandfather, to look up. The look he sent creepy Mr. Rookwood was cold enough that Nym silently forgave him for spawning filth like most of her extended family.

What answer could she give, Nym wondered. If she said she did well, she would be bragging. If she said otherwise, it would be a slight to her family. And of course she couldn't say anything about her family, because then she'd be on the defensive. It seemed no matter what she said, or didn't say, creepy Mr. Rookwood would win, embarrassing not only her but her uncle and aunt.

"Who can say?" Nym said, smiling as sweetly as she could. She was sure the guests at the other end of the table could hear her teeth grinding. "I had heard that Mr. Dumbledore had a hand in the creation of the challenge." Her smile grew slightly more sincere when she saw creepy Mr. Rookwood's scowl. "And it has been said he has some distinctly off ideas." From the exchanged glances around the table, Dumbledore's 'odd ideas' were a topic of frequent, and no doubt heated, discussion. Nym silently apologized to the headmaster. She'd only met him a few times, hardly at all, really, but he seemed a likable old coot if, admittedly, a bit of a barmy one, and she didn't like to insult him. But she'd read the guests here tonight aright. More than one black look was exchanged, their participants no doubt thinking that 'odd' was a bit of an understatement, and perhaps painted the situation in too positive a light.

Creepy Mr. Rookwood leveled a thoughtful gaze at Nym, one she found far more disconcerting than any scowl of his. "Indeed," was all he said, and for a wonder turned away to talk to his assistant, leaving Nym blessedly alone.

The meal dragged on, leaving Nym bleary-eyed and disoriented. So many black robes, so many boring conversations… it might have been a meeting of parliament, had the food been any worse. If only her uncle had agreed to let her stay with Mandy for the summer. But neither he not Narcissa would hear of it. Lucius's normally pale cheeks had flushed a brilliant, angry scarlet at the mere mention that she might, just possibly, stay with muggles over the holidays.

It seemed forever before Nym could escape to the solitude of her room, falling into a deep, but terribly troubled, sleep, tossing and turning but unable to wake up as monsters and black cloaked figures chased her through her dreams.


	22. The Application of Mannerisms

_It's been a long time, I know. The ideas just won't connect to make the story. In any event, here's a chapter I've had for a while._

_Why Nym, are you asking me out? This is so unexpected, and I haven't a thing to wear._ Nym rolled her eyes as she reread the first line of Rick's reply. No, she most certainly hadn't asked him out. She'd only asked him if he'd be able to come with her to the awards dinner because, as Remus had predicted, Lucius did expect her to have an escort. A proper, pureblooded wizard from an old wizarding family, actually, but to save breath he tended to just say 'escort'. Not a date. Not a friend. An escort, like Bagman had escorted her at her uncle's stupid dinner that night of her birthday.

Nym frowned at the thought of her birthday. It hadn't been at all pleasant. She still hadn't had time to look up magical contusions caused by rampaging cockatrices, and the thin, hazy lines seemed to be spreading from the main scar. She still hadn't opened the package Remus had given her, either. She wanted to, but she also wanted to savor the moment, and there just hadn't been time. Somehow, her aunt and uncle had found time to give her their birthday present – a brand new racing broom and quidditch guards.

With a shake of her head at her own wandering attention – Professor Tofty would have had something to say about that – Nym returned her attention to Rick's letter. It had already prompted a response from her (a short, one line piece that said she was settling for less than she ought and he should be flattered), but despite their banter and her own misgivings, in half an hour he would arrive to pick her up. She'd mentioned her arrangements to her aunt and uncle, just as a courtesy, really. Lucius had nearly flown into a rage at the thought of any of her adoptive brothers coming to his home. Narcissa had been calmer, though only a bit. In the end, to shut them up more than anything, Nym had written Remus and told him she and Rick would floo to the ministry, and they needn't bother coming to collect her. In fact, she'd amended at the end of the note, it would be bloody stupid of them if they did. Lucius and a few of his pals would no doubt be waiting for them, ready to speed them on their ways to early graves. Remus's reply, which when read made her think of the ironic twist his mouth sometimes took, said only that they would meet them at the banquet.

Nym made her way downstairs, taking one final glance in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable. She'd taken the silver hair clip from its hiding place behind the molding again. She caught herself, turning back to the mirror, a frown creasing her face. Well of all the… she looked like a bloody Slytherin, dressed in these colors. They did look fine on her, that much was true but… they were the colors of Slytherin. Terrible as the Gryffindor colors would be for her complexion, but that was where her allegiance lay and not, she thought angrily with a twist of her lips that was remarkably like Narcissa's, with the likes of her extended family. Sometimes it seemed the truest family she had was the one she had adopted at Hogwarts, her elective brothers and her friends.

With a mental shrug – she looked well enough, whatever the colors might represent – she turned away from her reflection again. She was glad she'd put her foot down about the embroidery on the collar and sleeves, though. The pattern Narcissa had wanted her held an eerie resemblance to snakes. Looking thoughtfully down at her sleeves, Nym was strongly reminded of the cockatrice that had been in the castle for the challenge. Its feathers had glittered a bit like the stones that sparkled among the gold and silver thread, and the strange golden stones that that formed the clasp of the cloak she wore over her robes. She hadn't worn a hat, though Lucius had been quite insistent that one never went out to such a gathering without one. The hat made the wizard, after all. Narcissa, for a wonder, had contradicted her husband, saying that Nym was a witch, not a wizard, and hats did frightful things to a witch's hair. Besides, she'd added, few people liked them at a presentation; they had a distressing tendency to block the view, which could be considered downright rude. It had been the possibility of showing bad manners, rather than concern for Nym's appearance, that had appeared to decide her uncle. He would not make her wear her hat, but woe betide her if she put a toe out of line. There would be people he knew at the banquet, and he wouldn't have her embarrassing him.

Her hand brushed the door latch before she remembered that it didn't do to be seen waiting. Heaven forbid that she be seen as eager to see her escort. No, she must be quietly occupied in another part of the house – but not too distant as to make it difficult and time consuming to fetch her – doing some small task that so absorbed her that she could not come to greet her guest, but could naturally be dropped in a heartbeat when the approved time arrived. Looking in the mirror, fixing her hair was the traditional way to kill the time, so she had been told, although reading (or pretending to) a proper book for a young lady was also allowed. Certainly nothing useful.

Unfortunately for the poor, dead masters of etiquette that had dreamt up these unbelievably foolish rules, they had never expected to come up against one such as Nym Tonks. If she had to kill time, she would do it in a useful manner. There was no time to look up magical injuries in the library (even with Anton's help, finding things could take hours. There were, after all, fully sixty three treatises on the correct way to de-gnome a garden, and no two of them agreed.

There was plenty of time to deal with that stupid ghoul that had taken up residence in one of the upper bed chambers. Aunt Narcissa, bless her, hadn't gone up there in the week since it had arrived. Oh, she could have dealt with it easily enough, Nym was sure, but the baby was making her delicate, and she didn't want to do anything to endanger it. Or so she said, at any rate, and you simply didn't argue with Narcissa when she got a thing like that into her head. There was no way to win. Lucius, on the other hand, said he rather liked it and he thought it leant to the atmosphere. Besides, it kept people away from his things.

Nym, typically, disagreed with both of them. The ghoul was not a deterrent to anyone beyond a mid level wizard (as you had to be to pass through the third year at Hogwarts, a level that even Wormtail had managed), and tended to disturb her sleep with its bloody minded howling.

Like many people, Nym tended to get, if not angry (a proper lady never got angry, although Aunt Narcissa had chucked that urn quite forcefully at Mr. Crabbe) at least quite annoyed when she was sleep deprived. As the cause of that aggravation, the ghoul was shortly to learn that it was better off taking up residence in a small, quiet little town where the residents were not averse to strange people with unusual ways.

Nym, replaying all the times she'd had to lie with her pillow clenched over her head to drown out the beastly noises made by the ghoul, was quickly passing through the tranquil waters of 'angry' right into the middle of the boiling maelstrom of 'seriously pissed off'. She threw the door of the bedroom – spelled to open quietly, with only a single small creak to alert others that someone was sneaking around – open with a bang, causing old plaster to rain down in the bedroom.

The ghoul, apparently lacking any other response, set up a clamor, which gradually died away and, to someone listening from down the corridor (not that any one was, of course, but if someone had been there it would have been Narcissa, wondering what her niece was up to in a largely deserted part of the manor house) it would have grown to sound rather like the screaming of a frightened school girl. This observer, had they known Nym well, would have made a run for it while there was still a chance of avoiding the backlash of righteous anger. Had they not known her well, they might have assumed it was Nym screaming and, depending on their disposition, sallied forth to save her or turned away and pretend not to have heard her.

When Narcissa entered the old bedroom to tell Nym that her escort had arrived, she found the young girl standing in the middle of a demolished room, very quiet and relaxed, a thoughtful expression creasing her face. In one corner there was a quivering bit of shadow that Narcissa affected not to notice. Indeed, Narcissa could be remarkably blind when she set her mind to it, and didn't seem to see the destruction that Nym had wrecked upon the antique furniture either.

"Your young man is here," was all the comment the woman made.

Nym looked up at her aunt, surprised to find her there. "He's not my young man," was all she could think of to say. Surely her aunt would be angry at her for making such a mess.

"Well, whatever else he may be, he's waiting. Hurry along now." Nym nodded, still shocked that she had gotten off, and fled down the hallways and many flights of stairs, slowing only when her uncle, no doubt waiting in the drawing room, might hear her.

He looked up from what appeared to be an engrossing conversation (but was probably just a string of observations about the horticultural implications of the weather they had been having recently) with Rick when Nym glided, now the perfect little lady, into the room.

"Nymphadora," he said by way of greeting. "I will leave you to young Richalus." Nym curtsied, Rick bowed, Lucius nodded and left. Only then did Nym run to her friend, who caught her up in a hug.

"Jeezus, Nym, you had me scared for a second," he said, holding her tight. "Thought they'd tied you up and replaced you with some well behaved little snot."

Nym laughed, shoving him away. "Now that's a greeting for sure. What about you? You bowed, if I may remind you." She put her nose in the air in a way Narcissa was fond of doing, managing to look down on Rick even though he stood a good five inches taller than her.

Rick grinned. "When in Rome and all that jazz."

"Don't accept a free ticket to the circus? I don't follow you."

If possible, Rick's smile grew even wider. "That's my Nym." His Nym gave him a playful shot to the arm. "What say we get going?"

Nym took down the elegant Ming vase from the mantle, opening it to offer Rick a little of the glittering powder within. Taking a pinch for herself, she replaced it. With a cry of 'Ministry of Magic', Rick disappeared into the flames, Nym following on his heels. They stepped out, elegant and suave and every inch the young purebloods amongst a throng of people, all dressed in the very latest, most expensive wizarding fashions.

"I say," drawled a nasal voice behind Nym, "how simply smashing." Nym turned, an acid comment on her tongue, only to have it die on her lips. Sirius winked at her. "Glad to see you're still alive."

Nym shook off her shock and launched herself into her cousin's arms. "Paddy, you old coot, you scared me to death," she said with a laugh. "You sounded just like creepy Mr. Rookwood."

Sirius frowned. "Creepy Mr. Rookwood? And just how would you know Rookwood, girly?"

"He comes over to supper sometimes. I suppose he's friends with my uncle, or some such." Sirius nodded, seeming to digest this bit of information, but he didn't make any further comment on it, if indeed it meant anything to him.

"Come on, Moony found us a prime spot. Up on the balcony, undisturbed view…" he grinned, "hard to see from below."

From the look on Rick's face, Nym was sure he didn't know quite what to make of her cousin. "You haven't planned anything for tonight, have you?" she demanded.

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "You never know." He lead them up through the crowds. Nym walked behind with Rick, talking in low voices.

"This place is amazing," Rick said. "They've really outdone themselves."

Nym looked at him in surprise. "Isn't it like this often?"

"Nah. My dad says it's mostly just an empty room where they store old furniture and the like. Only dust it off a couple of times a year. But, you know, when they say 'dust it off', you don't expect anything quite so…" he struggled, looking for a word, and settled on "lavish."

Nym shrugged. "It's not so bad. Bit like the opera house in London."

"The opera house," Rick repeated. "You have changed."

Nym laughed, a bit shocked and offended. "What? No. I went on a school trip when I was, let's see, how old was I?" she mused. "Nine, maybe? We wandered around mostly, and Henry Priggins got in trouble for trying to sneak into the prima dona's dressing room." Nym didn't look at her friend while she said this, but the tension seemed to ease from the air to her right. "Is Sybil still staying with you?" she asked to change the subject.

Rick laughed. "Gone two days now, crazy bat. Mum kicked her out when she read the tea leaves."

"I thought she was doing stuff like that all the time."

"Yeah, sure. But mostly harmless stuff, you know? Some bad weather, finding a missing possession, losing some small quantity of money. Little stuff that happens all the time."

Nym nodded. It was like the horoscopes in her dad's muggle papers. He always said they could be made to apply to anyone, any day, and it was really just a matter of thinking of what things were likely to happen to a number of people within a week or so, and then phrasing them in an unclear way. "What changed?"

"Well, you know my mum's a big supporter of the Asylum for Magical Pets, right? Kneazles and Auguries and such like. Anyway, last couple of weeks she's been in raptures over this one thing, a snake called Nagini. Apparently they rescued it from somewhere it was being used in," he lowered his voice, "dark magic."

Nym shivered, an image looming in her mind of all the tomes in her uncle's library. From the dark corners of her memory the various supper guests of the summer cackled at her. Yes, she could well imagine them all using helpless creatures to work their dark magic.

"Well, mum and a few of her friends from the Asylum were having a get together. Tea and so forth, and Sybil decided to make a production of it by reading the tea leaves. You know how she always goes for the dramatic and this time she went for broke." He laughed shortly. "Popular snake, that one. Gonna be kidnapped, apparently. More likely gonna be killed by too much pampering at the Asylum." But he said it without conviction, Nym noticed, as though something was weighing on his mind. She set it aside in her mind, resolving to ask him about it once they were in a more private place. Rick laughed at Sybil's predictions and supposition that she was a seer, but at the same time he seemed to be shrinking into himself, the way people did when they said the war would soon be over with all the bravado they could muster.

Their table came into view, disappearing and reappearing as the throng of people shifted, ebbing and flowing while the assembled masses tried to find tables, friends, washrooms or a waiter with another free round. Evans and James were sitting at a round table, laughing quietly with another couple that Nym didn't recognize. She caught sight of Remus as well, his head bent while he scribbled furiously on one of the menus. It was hard to tell if he was up to mischief or some arithmancy theory.

"Nym, this is Frank and Alice Longbottom," said Sirius. The couple that had been talking to Evans and James looked up and waved hello, their smiles open and welcoming. "Frank, my darling cousin Nymphadora Tonks, light of our poor impoverished lives since you took Alice away from us." Alice, who was pretty and full of energy, but still on the plumper side of what was normally considered attractive, flushed.

Frank laughed. "Just giving the other girls a sporting chance. Though it seems no one's managed to catch any of you except James." He gave a seated bow to Lily. "My heartfelt congratulations, madam. Perhaps you will be able to protect us from his pranks." The look Evans sent James, quickly covered up, promised a serious chat about his 'pranks' when there was no one close enough to hear her scolding.

It was easy for Nym to see why the Marauders were so fond of Frank and Alice. All through dinner they kept her and Rick entertained with stories of their exploits and others'. "Just don't you follow in our example, young ones," said Frank with a wink. "You'll come to a sticky end."

"Like you?" his wife asked, mischief in her eyes.

Frank flushed brightly. "Now Ally, no need to be bringing that up." Alice's laugh said she disagreed.

"Now, Nym, Ricky, you know the way to the kitchens, don't you?" Nym nodded her ascent, Rick following a half heartbeat later. In truth, Nym doubted he knew, but everyone else here did, so perhaps he was just trying to fit in. He still didn't seem to have gotten over the shock of spending time with Potter, Black and Lupin. "Well," continued Alice, "should you ever be down there before a feast, and should you ever wish to see how they cook up those wonderful puddings do not, and I really must stress this, use a ladder so you can see over the edge of one of the giant pots."

By this time Frank was clearing his throat loudly, asking if someone could please pass the wine, or maybe the butter, or the rolls, or maybe a gag for his darling wife. "And if you absolutely must, and if, by chance, you should drop your wand in the pot, do not, under any circumstances, dive into the pudding pot after it. Is that clear?"

Nym nodded, her eyes fixed on the very red young Auror across the table from her. He fell in the pudding pot? Even she hadn't done anything so daft and damnably clumsy as that. "Honestly, Alice, it wasn't anything like that at all," Frank grumbled.

"Then how was it?" Alice's satisfied smirk grew when her husband didn't answer. She had definitely been as much trouble as Sirius and James combined, Nym thought.

After a sumptuous feast (passable, the voice that had listened to Narcissa said in Nym's head, there were only six courses after all) a portly, elderly man climbed to the podium from his seat at the head table. Nym, after flipping through Rick's copies of the Daily Prophet whenever she ate breakfast at the Hufflepuff table, knew him to be Hector Higginsworth, deputy minister of magic. Word was that the minister himself should have been here, but he was home with a nasty magical flu, and his wife had forbidden it. Higginsworth cleared his throat self-importantly, straightening his frightful little bow tie. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he said, and Nym prepared herself to be bored. She tuned out the man's droning voice, instead allowing her gaze to sweep the floor below them. There, at the head table, sat Professor Dumbledore, looking mildly interested, though not overly so. Beside him, Professor Prewett wore that blank look he had when Evans lectured him about the abysmal state of the school, and how he ought to _do something_ about it. On Dumbledore's other side was, according to Rick, the editor of the Daily Prophet and his wife, both looking like they'd only shown up to impress people (and failed, added Narcissa's voice nastily).

Nym's attention snapped back to the deputy minister when she heard him say 'Professor Gideon Prewett, deputy headmaster of Hogwarts', which was answered by a wave of clapping. Idly, Nym wondered why Professor Prewett was being introduced, when the headmaster himself was sitting at the table as well. Dumbledore didn't seem to go in for long, rambling speeches the way Higginsworth did, but he was certainly not averse to speaking in front of a crowd. Prewett, Nym was very much afraid, might wander off into his eternal day dream again.

Professor Prewett, when he reached the podium, looked at it, then the crowd, a bit helplessly. "I'm sorry," he said, with the faintest of smiles, "my mind must have wandered. What am I here to talk about?"

There was some laugher, and from somewhere up front a voice called, "Give it up, Prewett, you can't fool us."

Prewett fixed the speaker with a piercing gaze, then sighed. "You're right of course, Jones, I never could fool you. You always did know better than me, especially when it came to changing exploding dung bombs into birds." More laugher greeted this remark, this time uninterrupted by any annoyed (and annoying) young wizards. "Right then, the Challenge." Prewett looked a little lost again, but rallied himself. "Well, most of you know at least some of the challenges competitors faced, so I won't bother with that. I would like to make note of something that was brought to the attention of the judges by Professor Dumbledore." Silence greeted this. Dumbledore was, even according to those who knew and respected him, something of a crazy old bat, who came up with the oddest, and at times most inconvenient, things. "In the Challenge, competitors were asked to find a treasure. Well, according to Professor Dumbledore, since there was more than one treasure, and 'treasure' was never defined, it is quite plausible that someone could have brought back a piece of gravel and have it considered a valid entry." His mild smile took in the hushed, frantic whisperings that had sprung up around the hall.

"Dumbledore probably wrote that to a purpose," Jones yelled out.

Prewett shrugged happily. "I merely thought I'd bring that to your notice. It is very difficult to judge," he added dryly, "when ninety percent of the treasures brought back are an identical wooden treasure chest."

Dumbledore stood, replacing Prewett at the podium. Prewett took his seat again, leaning back and apparently falling asleep. "There are, however, three exceptions to this. But first, the honorable mention. This year, I am pleased to present this award," he indicated a smiling young witch bearing a mounted plaque, "to that team which best procured the treasure chest." It seemed to Nym, when Professor Dumbledore leaned forward with the slightest of smiles, that this presentation was very like the American awards shows that she'd watched on the television with her grandmother. "Would the captain of the team from the Daily Prophet please come forward." A storm of applause greeted this announcement.

"Probably because they finally lost," Rick hissed in Nym's ear, grinning. "Father was threatening dire things if they won again, stuck up prigs." At Nym's shocked look, he grinned wider. "He's the Chief of Cursebreakers for Gringotts." Nym nodded knowingly. Of course. She wondered what Rick would say if she told him her dream to join the Auror's college, especially if he decided to become a curse breaker like his father. Well, that was years in the future. She'd worry about it then.

With a somewhat fixed smile, the captain from the Daily Prophet went on stage to collect the plaque for his team. When he'd made his way back down to his table, amid a hiss of conversation and speculation over who the third team that beat the Prophet could have been, more vacantly smiling young witches appeared bearing plaques and envelopes.

"Third place, for having found the magic mirror in the tower of the castle…"

"See?" Sirius hissed to Remus. "And you wanted to go up."

"Bet the treasure chest was down," Remus returned.

"… goes to the Auror's College." More cheers, though not so many this time, it seemed. Perhaps because it was taken for granted that the Auror's College and Gringotts would both be in the top three. Now people wanted to know who the third team was.

Now the full team went on stage to collect their plaques, and the gift certificates to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Looking at the rather threadbare dress robes of the young Aurors, Frank among them, Nym decided they had probably done quite well for themselves with that gift. Student Auror's obviously had a hard time fitting in work to earn money, and many of them (except Frank, who had Alice to look after him) seemed in need of a few good meals like the one they had just enjoyed with gusto.

"Our runner up this year, with a Chalice of Health from the dining room…"

"There you are, James. Straight wasn't right either."

"Shut up, Paddy. We already know left was the right one."

"Left was right…"

"Shut _up_, Paddy!"

"… the Curse Breaker's of Gringotts!" Again, the gift that went with the plaques seemed to have been chosen just for the recipients. Large magical medi-kits, provided by St. Mungo's with a 'maybe it would be best if they just lived in the hospital full time', were handed out to general laughter.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Sirius asked, suddenly unable to keep his voice down. It didn't matter anyway, as noise flooded in around them; congratulations for the Gringotts team, speculation over the identities of the winners, general chatter. "It means we won! First time through and we won!"

James didn't seem able to tell his best friend to shut up. "You know what this means, boys? Scholarships right into the Auror's College. Bet they let us in without even trying the entrance exams!"

Even Remus was talking excitedly. "Twelve years old, and you got through, Nym. That's my master's thesis right there. Only imagine what I can get you to do by the time you graduate!"

Evans looked about her, shocked. "Are you telling me that you four…" she switched tracks suddenly. "Are you telling me that you three took an eleven year old into that death trap?"

The boys stopped chatting, shooting surprised and furtive looks between themselves and Nym. "She's twelve, hun," James offered at last.

"James Potter, don't you…"

Alice over rode her, smiling slightly. "Relax, Lil. You always did get overwrought over trifles. Nym came through fine, and probably better off for it."

Evans sighed, the anger draining from her visibly. "Alice, what am I to do with them?" Alice just laughed, directing her attention back towards the stage.

Dumbledore was holding his hands up for silence. "I know you are all very excited to meet our champions this year, but first I would like you to meet a very dear friend of mine. I have the very great pleasure of introducing Doctor Phineas Richtus, head of the Faculty of Experimental Magics at the National Academy of Magic in Zurich."

From the head table came a stooped old man, his white hair flying all about his parchment face. Thick glasses were perched atop his head, catching the light from the array of torches and glowing globes. He smiled absently at the crowd while pulling a folded piece of parchment – his speech no doubt – from his robes, then patted his head distractedly, searching for his glasses. At last, having discovered them, he put them on and peered at the parchment.

"Doctor Richtus!" Remus whispered excitedly. "Can you imagine? The only living wizard besides Dumbledore to have his own Chocolate Frog card."

That, Nym felt, qualified some awe. Obviously, you needed to be a rather important person to have a chocolate frog card. Without that knowledge, though, the man down on the podium would have inspired little awe. He seemed the sort that would forever be found hidden among tall shelves, searching out some forgotten spell. He certainly didn't seem the sort to undertake the dangerous and harrowing business of experimental magic.

"Ah yes," the man said, his voice a dry parchment rasp that complimented his skin. "I'm very honored to be here before you today, of course. Very honored indeed. Very fortunate too. If it weren't for a remarkable discovery by a young researcher in my department, why, I wouldn't be here at all, and Mr. Higginson would be making this presentation instead of me." There were some muffled cheers, as the assembled crowd assured the doctor that he was a most welcome replacement. "My young student, who as I said made this most remarkable discovery, unfortunately could not be here with us tonight, but she sends her regards to all present, and her heartfelt thanks to this year's champions. For you see, my friends, our champions this year procured a very rare magical ingredient, very rare indeed. So rare, in fact, that it has never been properly tested. And, lo, when the judges sent this article to me for testing, what should my student discover, but that it had a powerful effect on the potion she was developing."

Across the table from Nym, Remus fidgeted. "Alright?" James demanded quietly.

"Not until tomorrow," Remus hissed back, forcing himself with a visible effort to remain still. What on earth? Nym wondered, before noticing the gibbous moon that shone through the tall windows of the ball room. Another day and he would not have been able to come, Nym thought, struck anew by the plight that assailed her friend.

"You see…" he paused, looking at Dumbledore. "Can I tell them? Splendid. Now, there is not much known about cockatrices," he said, assuming a lecturing tone so like Remus's that Nym could only stare. "But legends have said that they have powerful transformational properties. Nothing has been proved up until now, you understand, because magic does not, in a general way, affect them. No, even less than dragons, I'm afraid. However, our champions succeeded in procuring a feather from a cockatrice – a fine specimen, I might add – which we have since analyzed and tested. I am pleased to inform everyone present tonight that this feather provided the final ingredient for that potion on which I and a number of my students have been laboring for many years. Yes, that one," he added, when a murmur sprang up through the crowd. Nym saw Remus lean forward, staring at the doctor intently. The old man raised his voice. "I am pleased to announce that, as of now, we have indeed perfected the Wolfsbane potion." The cheer that erupted through the assembled wizards could have drowned out any of the previous applause with ease.

Remus sat back, a shocked and happy smile on his face. "Remus," Nym asked quietly, trying to make herself heard without allowing anyone to overhear, "what's the Wolfsbane potion?"

Still smiling, Remus leaned closer to her. The light glinted ominously off his teeth. "It keeps werewolves safe. In theory, they'll retain their human minds even in their wolf state."

He got no further, because the doctor, with a little magical aid, was calling for quiet. "And now," he said, in the hush that filled the hall, "I would like to call down the four young people who made this possible."

"Let's go," Sirius hissed, grabbing James and pulling him away from the table. Remus and Nym followed quickly, slipping away through the darkened balcony towards the stairs as the doctor continued without naming them, citing his amazement at their prowess, insight, and his gratitude at their fortuitous discovery. Sirius stopped them on the landing of the stairs. No doubt he had a grand entrance planned.

"I would like to ask the Marauders to come forward and accept the prize for this challenge, as well as the recognition they so rightly deserve."

And then they were walking down a thick red carpet, the only light in the place focused on the four of them, cheers and whispering echoing all around them. Nym walked as in a daze, not ready to accept the truth of what was happening. In a year she'd gone from not even knowing she was a witch to be a champion in a magical challenge.

Doctor Richtus was beaming at them as they approached, happiness radiating from every plane of his weathered face. Nym felt his eyes seek her out, assessing her before moving on. They seemed to fasten on Remus the longest, as though the doctor could read the young man's secret in his face. Whether he could or not, he was quite overwrought by the time they reached the stage. "My young friends," he cried, hastening forward and embracing each of them in turn, to Nym's mortification. "You cannot begin to understand what you have done for the wizarding world." He seemed to look pointedly at Remus here, but it could have been Nym's nerves making her paranoid.

Slowly the crowd settled down, waiting to see what fabulous prizes the champions would receive. Thus far each team had received something that seemed tailored to them, but there was nothing to distinguish the four young people up on stage.

First came the witches, bearing their plaques. Nym took hers carefully, staying well away from the young beauty that grimaced and flashed her teeth at the cameras, making expansive gestures like a game show hostess.

"Ahem." Doctor Richtus cleared his throat. "First, to Mr. Remus Lupin, the National Academy of Magic is pleased to extend a full scholarship to study with us for as long as he likes." The crowd erupted – which seemed to be their only purpose tonight, cheering on the contestants and getting caught up in the general excitement – almost drowning out his next words. "We hope that he will stay with us to do post graduate work." Nym thought she saw tears in Remus's eyes as he went to shake the doctor's hand. James, Sirius and Nym whooped excitedly, pounding Remus on the back. Of course it was what he had wanted. Nym only thought with a slight shiver of all the years ahead of her as a test subject for his teaching stratagems.

"Next, to Misters James Potter and Sirius Black, the Auror's college has kindly extended unconditional acceptance, and full scholarships for their two years of study, provided," he gave a dry chuckle, "that they compete in the challenge on behalf of the College." There was some laughter at that, and some hisses from the supporters of the Gringott's team. No doubt they had hoped to recruit the boys for themselves.

"And finally, Miss Nymphadora Tonks." The doctor smiled at her in what Nym felt to be a rather patronizing way, but she was too happy to care very much. Besides, he could be forgiven for being old. "If I may say, we have never had a champion younger than fifteen before and so Miss Tonks, in addition to being truly exceptional, has put us in a unique position. Miss Tonks, to you the Ministry gives one thousand galleons in prize money."

Nym smiled, though truth be told she was just the littlest bit disappointed. The boys had all received what they wanted. Giving her money seemed to say they weren't quite sure what to do with her.

But the doctor wasn't finished. "And, the Auror's College, Gringott's Curse-breaking department, and St. Mungo's hospital have all offered you unconditional acceptance upon your graduation from Hogwarts. Of course," he added quietly, when a now elated Nym came forward to shake his hand, "the National Academy would never dream of turning you away, should you wish to make your home with us." He pressed an envelope into her hands. "A little something from our faculty." He winked, then turned to finish his speech to the crowd.


	23. Return

Platform 9 ¾ was almost deserted when Nym arrived. Most of the passengers wouldn't arrive until ten at least, more than an hour from now. She stepped down from the coach delicately, moving carefully in case she dislodged Morwen, who snuggled around her neck like a grey fur collar. Narcissa would have had a fit to see Nym getting cat fur all over her robes, but then, Narcissa wasn't here to see.

Nym walked to the train, her luggage following obediently behind. She had another giant trunk in addition to the one she'd originally taken with her to Malfoy Manor. It wasn't that she'd outgrown all her old things – she'd hardly grown at all in the last year – but Narcissa had been aghast at the thought of her niece going to Hogwarts with such a small wardrobe. So she'd shopped – and bought – until even she could shop no more, and outfitted Nym with everything she could conceivably need, and many things she probably never would. Much of it Nym had left in the closet back at the Manor, hidden as best she could in the hope that Narcissa wouldn't find it and be offended. She'd filled all the extra space with books she'd smuggled out of the Malfoy library. It wasn't really stealing, she assured herself, she would return them as soon as she was done. Besides, it wasn't like Lucius or Narcissa ever read them.

It would be strange, Nym thought as she settled into the compartment she had chosen, to be at Hogwarts without the Marauders. She was afraid that it would be invariably dull. Some small comfort came from the knowledge that things didn't have to stay dull. She had finally found time to open her birthday gift from her elective brothers a week ago. They'd bequeathed to her their greatest instruments of mischief: their animated map, showing all of Hogwarts and its occupants, and James's invisibility cloak. She wasn't sure what end she'd use them to, but she'd try to live up to their expectations.

Speaking of expectations…. Nym pulled out her homework with a sigh. The much-dreaded summer homework had been nothing with the amazing Malfoy library as a resource, but Remus's assignments had proved much more trying. He'd had her on cockatrices ever since the disastrous run-in on her birthday, and he didn't look to be giving up any time soon. He'd even suggested she come to Zurich in the spring to help with the research. Doctor Richtus had added his support to the idea, and added that Nym could study with some of the metamorphamagi in residence. How he'd known about her ability was still a mystery to Nym, but she would welcome the chance to meet others like herself.

It was a sharp knock at the door which finally brought Nym back to the presence. "Nym?" Zack poked his head into the compartment. Nym dropped her books and ran to the door, pulling it open and hugging her friend. Then she stopped, pulling back and blushing self-consciously. Zack had grown a lot over the summer, and matured even more. His hair had lightened with sun to match his tanned skin, and the hours of mending the dock had added muscle to his athletic frame. He looked, Nym thought, extremely handsome, which made her feel ten times as awkward as she knew she was. "So you'll still talk to me, will you?" he teased.

Nym froze. "What are you talking about?"

Zack pulled a newspaper clipping out of his pocket with a grin. There was Nym, small and elegant and oh-so-Slytherin with the self-important deputy minister. The cold little girl in the picture dropped a courtesy to an invisible audience and smiled tightly as she shook the deputy minister's hand. "Merlin," Nym breathed. "I look like a bloody Slytherin."

Zack laughed and put the picture back in his pocket. "Glad you haven't turned into one. Summer wasn't too bad though, was it? I mean, your own quidditch pitch and all."

"Move it, doofus," came Mandy's voice from the corridor. She shoved her brother out of the way and barged into the compartment, barreling Nym over in a hug. "I can't wait to tell you all about Juan."

Nym glanced enquiringly at Zack. "Spanish brat," he mouthed back. Nym tried not to groan. She'd heard all she wanted to about Mandy's Spanish dreamboat through her letters over the summer.

"So," Zack said conversationally as they settled into their seats, "meet any cute boys over the summer, Nym?" Nym looked up, startled. What was he driving at?

"What are you talking about?" Mandy demanded.

Zack grinned. "You know, rich, good looking young men about to sweep you off your feet and fly you off on their broomsticks?"

Nym rolled her eyes. "Why of course, now that you mention it. There was one young man, not sure if you've heard of him… plays quidditch for the Wisborn Wasps. The beater, Ludo."

"On a first-name basis already?" Zack asked. At least, Nym thought that was what he was trying to say. It was hard to hear him over Mandy's excited chatter.

"Ludo Bagman? He's absolutely dreamy! He was in Teen Witch Weekly as one of the top ten most eligible bachelors. You are so lucky Nym, you have no idea."

Suddenly Zack started to laugh. "Bagman? The airhead from your uncle's dinner party?"

Nym grinned. "The same. Oh, do get over it, Mandy. It's not such a big deal."

"Says you."

"Says me too," said Rick, coming in. "I'm sure plenty of girls think Bagman's quite something right now, but give it time. He's a beater, after all."

"And just what does that have to do with anything?" Mandy demanded.

"They get hit in the head a lot," Rick said with a shrug. "Smash up that pretty face plenty quick, if I'm any judge."

"Huh," Mandy snapped. "Lot you know. You're just jealous."

Rick sighed. "Yes, that would be it I'm sure."

"Sorry Mandy, but as nice as Ludo is, he _is _a little on the dim side," Nym said.

Mandy gave a great heaving sigh. "Why do you always have the exciting life, Nym? You stayed in a castle all summer, with witches and wizards and quidditch stars. Me, I had to spend time with my cousin."

"And his friend," Nym reminded her, trying to get Mandy to focus on something else.

It worked; Mandy brightened immediately. "Oh, I still haven't told you about Juan."

That, it turned out, was easily remedied. Over the next two hours, Nym learned more about Juan than she had ever hoped to – far more than anyone would readily want to know, in fact. And despite it all, she still couldn't understand Mandy's attraction. All through Mandy's descriptions of beautifully toned muscles, tanned skin, gorgeous eyes (and so on and so forth, Nym tuned most of it out), Nym kept picturing the annoying little twerp Zack had described. In her imagination, he grinned evilly, flipped her the bird, and shoved Mandy off the dock in her party dress (an act that did not seem, whatever Mandy claimed, to be an expression of deep and suppressed affection).

"Enough," Rick growled at last. He slammed down his copy of Quidditch Quarterly. "We get the picture."

"Well sor-ry," Mandy snapped. "What's your problem, anyway?" Nym sighed and picked up the discarded magazine. It looked like things were going right back to normal.


	24. Evans No More

Minetta Nigellus, twelve years old and fashionable, made her way down the main street of Hogsmeade. She really shouldn't be here, she knew. Coming with Remus or James and Sirius had been very different from coming on her own. And what if she missed the Halloween feast later on? Not what if, she reminded herself tiredly, when. Rick and Mandy would definitely notice she was missing, if only because there would be no one to ignore their fighting. She wouldn't be able to claim she was sick, either. Professor Prewett at least, and probably Dumbledore as well, would be at the wedding, and it was galleons to acorns that they would recognize her. So what was she doing here? She asked herself for the hundred and second time.

She was here because James was always there for her, she reminded herself. When Regulus was picking on her, when she was upset about Remus, when she was just plain bored… and so she was going to be there for him on his wedding day, even if it meant detention later on. But surely it wouldn't? True, she didn't have permission to leave the grounds – no second year did – but these were mitigating circumstances. Well, what would be, would be and all that.

What she was really looking forward to was seeing Remus again. It wasn't that she liked him more than James or Sirius, only that she hadn't seen him in over two months. She'd popped down to Hogsmeade to visit Sirius and James a couple of times, when they could get away from the Auror's College and James had time to spare from planning the wedding with Evans. Besides, they wouldn't have much time for her today. James would be there for Evans – he was marrying her, after all, crazy bugger – and Sirius would be drunk as could be before they even made the first toast. The only thing that dimmed her excitement at seeing her adoptive brother was the promise that he would be bringing lots of fresh study material for her.

Nym was thoroughly sick of studying. She did it all the time, because it was interesting and because, despite her rapidly growing abilities and knowledge, the teachers still expected her to do the same work as her year mates. Especially the new Potions master who had turned out, to Nym's personal horror, to be none other than Snivellus. After only two months, it had reached the point where she was desperate to find a way to avoid going to potions for the next five years (and eight months, not that she was counting).

"Minetta, how wonderful to see you again."

"And you, Madame Rosmerta. You look wonderful." She was almost used to people calling her Minetta now. Almost, but not quite. Nym worried some times that someone would wonder at the little pause it took her to realize that when people addressed Minetta they meant her.

"Isn't she darling," cooed Madame Rosmerta to her friend, as they moved away to greet others they knew. Darling, yes, that was the word. Darling was exactly what Minetta was, and Nym hated to be. She wished she was a year older, so that she could come to Hogsmeade as herself, instead of Minetta Nigellus, the darling and empty headed little pure blood brat. She almost wanted to kick herself when she went around like this, that was how much she hated Minetta.

"Minetta. How are you, child?" Nym smiled and tried not to grit her teeth doing it. Mrs. Honeyduke was sweet, and meant well. She couldn't have any idea how trying this whole ordeal was for Nym.

"I'm very well, thank you Mrs. Honeyduke. And yourself?" Nym smiled and looked interested as Mrs. Honeyduke chattered away. Well, if there was one skill she had picked up over the summer with her uncle, she could smile and keep a conversation going while hating the person and not paying attention. That, and dressing herself nicely, which she did once in a while, if only as Minetta.

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Honeyduke, but I'm afraid I have to steal Minetta away from you."

Mrs. Honeyduke laughed happily. "Oh, you are such an old so-and-so, Remus Lupin."

Nym turned quickly, practically falling into Remus's arms. "Remus!"

He laughed, picking her up and swinging her around as if she was five. "Min!" When her feet were firmly back on the ground she looked at him, studying. The months in Zurich had been good to him, it seemed. He didn't look nearly so old and worn, and someone had found him a set of clean robes to wear for the wedding.

"You found yourself a girlfriend, didn't you?" she challenged him. Remus went bright red, and tried to turn the question aside. "You did," Nym cried triumphantly. "I always knew there was hope for you."

Remus turned, if possible, even redder. "It's not like that…"

"How is it then? Come on." She grinned delightedly. Sirius had never lacked for dates on Hogsmeade weekends, and if James hadn't had Evans, he could have had his pick of over a score of other girls. But Remus had never had the same way with girls that his two best friends did.

"She's just a friend is all."

"Poppycock. You let her find you new robes and put some food in you. You wouldn't leave your books to go through that for just anyone."

Remus sighed, a sound underlaid with a wolfish growl. "I keep forgetting how smart you are, lassie. Fair enough. But I'm telling you now, I don't have a chance with a girl like Bianca, so don't you go getting ideas."

"Bianca? That's a nice name. What's she like?"

"I think the wedding's starting…"

"Remus…"

He told her, with many false starts and hesitant pauses. Bianca helped her mother run an inn behind the National Academy in Zurich. "Not waiting tables or anything," he said hurriedly. "She does the books and helps in the kitchen and stuff." He'd met her when he'd gone for a bite around one in the morning after a long night trying to find a book in the library. "And, of course, it turned out that Julius Santos had taken it just before I got there without signing it out." Julius Santos, it seemed, was the main reason Remus thought he had no chance with Bianca. What would a pretty and intelligent girl like Bianca want with a bookwormish werewolf like Remus when she could have an Italian model like Julius? Nym rolled her eyes at that. People thought men like Santos got everything they wanted because that's what men like Santos thought. The simple truth was that men like Julius Santos were no better than anyone else, and Remus had best get that through his thick skull. Besides, maybe Bianca liked looking after Remus. Some women were like that.

"A reclusive bookworm, okay," Remus sighed. "My imagination can stretch that far. But a werewolf?"

"Why not?" Nym shrugged. "We all know you're a werewolf, and we don't give a hoot."

Remus smiled sadly. "You, Paddy and Prong are three in a million."

"And there's billions of people in the world. Maybe Bianca's one in a million too."

Remus stared into the middle distance thoughtfully. "That she is."

Evans and James (or rather, Nym amended, Lily Potter and James now) were married in a simple ceremony. However fancy Lily's parents wanted the ceremony to be, James wouldn't hear of it, and Lily, for a wonder, had sided with him.

"She gave this big sigh and went 'he doesn't have the attention span for it, mother'," said Remus, by way of explanation for this unprecedented event.

Sirius giggled into his champaign. "What's she talkin' about? Jimmy-boy is the only one of us who can last a quidditch game wi'out hexing, hexing stuff… penuts, nuts to pelt people."

Remus smiled and tried to take the crystal goblet away from him. "There's a difference between a quidditch game and a wedding."

Sirius scratched his head, perplexed. "One's gotta… gotta whatshamacallit. A buncha balls. But Prongs, he's gotta, a buncha…" Remus shut him up with a quick wand flick. He sighed and looked at his friend who sat slumped on a table at the back of the party hall. Sirius's mouth was still moving, and, as Nym watched, his brain finally caught up with the fact that, as much as he moved his mouth, no sound was coming out. Nym saw this register and then, as realization hit, Sirius toppled slowly over, apparently unconscious.

"Will he be okay?" Nym asked, as they left the slumbering form of Paddy to sleep off his many bottles of champagne (and various other things from before the wedding, taken to cure his hangover from the bachelor party the night before).

"Paddy? He'll be fine. He's not bad until he loses control of his morphic field and ends up with scratching his head with his foot. Thank god he normally passes out before then." Nym tried to picture Sirius doing this, but found it impossible. Joker he may be, but doing something like that would be far below Sirius's dignity. "Hey, isn't that your friend?"

Nym followed Remus's gaze to the punch table. There was Fenbrus Burlax, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, talking to… Nym stared. What was Zack doing here? That was when the chair which had been lurking just to the side leapt into Nym's path, tripping her. Down went Nym, and the chair, and the table cloth, the cutlery, and kindly Professor Sprout, who had been talking to Mr. Honeyduke.

It seemed to Nym that the room around her went silent except for the clatter of cutlery as everyone turned to look at her. Remus assured her later that this had not, in fact, been the case, and only a few people even noticed what happened. All the same, right then Nym felt very small and stupid, not to mention exceedingly clumsy.

It was Fenbrus who helped her up, while Zack saw to Professor Sprout. Nym only just stopped herself thanking him by name. "Thanks Bruce," Remus cut in before she could slip up. "I think Minetta's a little tired is all. Or maybe Sirius has been sharing his champaign."

Bruce laughed. "That one? He wouldn't share if she was Aphrodite herself. Nice to meet you, Minetta, whatever the circumstances." Nym smiled back and said it was very nice to meet him too. As always, she found it difficult to talk to people she knew well in this second persona.

"Here, Smith, I've found you another player. She's more graceful than most of those louts you have." Bruce laughed again when Zack went a bit red. "Just jokes, Minetta, just jokes." He nodded to Remus and wandered off after a pretty waitress carrying a tray of alcohol.

"Don't mind him," Zack said, a bit roughly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you." Nym was hard pressed not to say she knew Bruce didn't mean it, he never did. But of course Minetta wouldn't know that. "I'm Minetta, by the way."

"Zack." He looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment then, "would you like to dance?" Nym later reflected that Bruce must have been slipping Zack a fair amount of champaign for him to ask the question like that. The Zack she knew was cool and confident, able to talk to anyone about anything (expect the Marauders, who he still seemed to hold in awe). The Zack that asked her – well, Minetta – to dance was shy and blushing, tripping over his words as though afraid to say them. He tripped rather more through the dance, too, until he finally caught the rhythm and relaxed a bit. That was not like him at all; normally, she was the clumsy one. She kept hoping he'd say something, but he never did, and her few attempts at conversation fell flat. You just couldn't keep a conversation going on your own.

Zack excused himself at the end of the dance, red-faced still. He didn't come talk to her again, though Nym saw him looking at her often throughout the rest of the evening until, happy, tired, and just the littlest bit drunk, she wandered through the secret passages back up to the castle and into her bed.


	25. Troubles and Opposition

It was an elated Nym that walked into Potions class one Monday morning. Gryffindor had won their quidditch match against Hufflepuff the day before, in an epic and exceedingly close game. With Bruce out with a broken arm and severe concussion, and one of the Gryffindor Beaters on penalty for hitting an opposing player over the head with her bat, Gryffindor had been trailing by fifty points when Nym caught the snitch. Of course, now they'd never let her play Chaser, but she was too happy with the win to care. And she'd sent the last package of homework off to Zurich on Saturday, so she had enjoyed two glorious and homework-free days. She was in such a good mood, in fact, that she could almost have excused Snivellus for having been born. He was a miser, it was true, but what was the world without its puss-filled pimples? Don't answer that, a part of her brain added quickly. Keep the happy thoughts going.

"What's that grin for, Tonks?" Snivellus demanded. "What have you done now?"

Beautiful, Nym thought, now he's going to take points off for being happy. "I'm having a good day, sir."

"And why is that, hmm? Put maggots in my desk, have you? Jinxed my chair, maybe?"

"Nossir. I could if you like though, sir," Nym answered, her happiness making her the slightest bit foolhardy.

"Showing off now, are you?"

"Nossir. Just trying to be helpful."

"You still haven't answered my question, Tonks. Why are you having a good day?"

Good grief, she thought. I was having a good day, thank you, but that's done with now. Across the room, Mandy shot her a look of deep sympathy. "I didn't have any homework over the weekend, Professor."

Snape looked like Christmas had arrived two weeks early. It was the last Monday before Christmas holidays, and perhaps his last time to share his misery with his students. "I distinctly recall assigning an essay, Tonks. I take it you did not complete it. Five points…"

"I did it, sir, begging your pardon." Nym gave him her sweetest smile. "I finished it on Friday. It's in the pile on your desk." And indeed it was. Snape looked ready to do murder, but he couldn't very well take points off for having her homework done. And if he does, Nym thought savagely, I'll write Uncle Lucius. Snivellus may be nothing but a bully, but Lucius is a bigger one. Take that, you slimeball. She worked not to let these thoughts show on her face, however. There was no telling what Snivellus would think she was up to.

"Very well, Tonks. Since you seem to have such a strong grasp of the topic, you can write me an essay on the theory behind the Levitation creams, and have it for me by the end of the period." And he smiled that nasty smile of his, knowing that no second year should be able to do that. Why, Nym thought, half the fourth years couldn't manage it if you gave them the whole day! Second years were only supposed to be able to make one and explain what it did, not how and why it worked.

Grumbling quietly, she reached into her bag and pulled out her notebooks. Bloody unfair, that's what he was. Sirius was only too right to beat him up. The more often, the better, in her opinion. Uncle Lucius might be a right bastard, and Regulus a hell-child, but no one could match Snivellus for sheer gittiness. She should have done worse to him, that time she had him unconscious. Leaving him lying around looking like he was drunk just didn't compare to the horror he could make her life now that he was a teacher. True, he had had detention for a month, but he could make her suffer that a dozen times over before she graduated. Oh, how she detested him.

Mandy caught up to her after class, puffing a little as she worked to match Nym's determined stride. Nym was little, and her book bag overflowed with heavy books, but she was the stronger for it, and for her intense quidditch work over the summer and throughout the fall. Mandy's idea of exercise was walking between classes. Still, she was determined to keep up to her friend, and that gave her the strength to match the smaller girl's grueling pace, if only for a little while.

"Are you alright, Nym?"

Nym looked at her friend, surprised. "Yeah." Why wouldn't she be?

"Snape is always so beastly to you. How can you stand it?"

Nym shrugged. "I just kind of ignore him, I guess."

Mandy didn't seem ready to believe that. "I don't see how you can. He's such a monster. How could Dumbledore ever think to hire him on?"

"I guess he's good at potions." He was, too, as much as Nym hated to admit that Snivellus could be good at anything. Totally useless with a wand, though, she thought, not without satisfaction. Slimy git, couldn't do a first year spell with a wand.

Mandy didn't seem to have heard her. "I bet it wasn't Dumbledore at all. I bet it was the Board of Directors. I've heard that they're simply beastly. But of money-grubbing, pure-blooded old farts, with wand so far up their…"

Fenbrus Burlax was a huge boy, tall, broad-shouldered, and comfortable with it. He was also, according to Mandy, drop-dead gorgeous, but Nym just couldn't see that. She thought he looked a bit homely, although she supposed he was somewhat good looking when his face was crinkled up in that all-encompassing smile he had. Nym's opinion, however, wasn't of the slightest interest to most of the girls in the school, who tended to agree with Mandy. They had an annoying habit of filling the stands when the Gryffindor team tried to practice, and after six months of it, Nym had reached her breaking point.

They were in the changing room, the one place the team was safe from the eyes of all those girls, a few of whom, no doubt, used the opportunity to do a bit of spying for their own teams. Most of the other players were outside warming up, but Fenbrus had wanted to go over a special play with Nym, a special one he'd designed for a strong Beater - himself - and a fast Chaser - her.

"I can't do this, Bruce," Nym said, when he put his hand on the door to leave.

Bruce smiled reassuringly. "Come on, Nym. You're the best Chaser we have. I know it'll be hard to do without any practice, but I know you'll manage it."

Nym sighed. "It's not the play, Bruce. Yeah, maybe I could manage it. It's the other part."

"Which?" Fenbrus's honest face crinkled as he tried to see what she was driving at. Of course, she thought bitterly, he'd never think of telling those girls to go away so we can practice. He's much too nice.

"The not practicing part."

"But we've done lots of other plays without practicing them."

"But we shouldn't have to!" Nym cried. "We should be able to practice our plays before we have to use them in games, or without sneaking out at night to use the pitch. We have the pitch booked for practice, but we can't use it because of those stupid chits!"

"Come on, Nym. They just want to watch some quidditch. They like the game just as much as you do."

"Then why don't they watch their own teams practice, instead of coming to see us fly in circles?"

"How do you know they don't?" he demanded.

Nym nearly groaned in exasperation. Just like Bruce, to stick up for them. "I went to one of the Ravenclaw practices, alright? And Eloise Grigglesworth, you know her, she's been to _every single one of our practices_¸ threatened to report me to Dumbledore for spying."

"But you were spying, weren't you?"

"Of course not. I just went to watch their practice."

She could see Bruce trying to make sense of it. The poor boy didn't have a dishonest bone in his body. "Did you tell her that she'd made a mistake?"

"Of course. But come on, Bruce, do you really think she'd believe that? She didn't care what I was doing there."

Bruce sighed. Nym hoped it was starting to make sense to him. "What do you want me to do about it, Nym?"

"Send them away. If there's even one of them left by the time I get out there, I can't make any guarantees about what I might do."

"Please Nym…"

"I can't take this any more, Bruce. I need to practice while it's light out."

Bruce nodded slowly. He might not understand why Nym hated to have all the other girls around - and the spies that moved among them - but he did understand that she wouldn't practice while they were there, and that his team really ought to practice while it was still light out. They were out of the running for the Cup after that disastrous game against Ravenclaw, but they might still take second place, if they put on a good showing against Slytherin in two weeks. "I'll try."

But of course, as Nym had expected, they hadn't left by the time she made it out to the field five minutes later. Instead, as soon as Bruce had made it clear he wanted to talk to them, more had seemed to ooze out of the wood of the stadium, until they clustered around him in a big group, flirting so outrageously with him that he could hardly get a word in to tell them to shove off.

Mitch, a fourth year Beater, was watching them and his captain with a critical eye from his post in the middle of the pitch. "Should we even bother getting changed from now on, do you think?" he asked Nym. "There'll be twice as many when we come to practice tomorrow."

"I need a Bludger, Mitch," Nym said by way of answer.

He grinned. "But see, it's my job to keep Bludgers away from you, right?"

Nym rolled her eyes and grabbed his bat out of his hand. "Get me the damn Bludger."

Mitch got her the heavy ball wordlessly, making sure she held the struggling weapon tightly before he let her off the ground with it. No one in their right mind tried to carry a Bludger while flying, he'd pointed out when Nym told him what she intended. "At this point, I don't think I'm in my right mind anymore," was all she said in reply.

Now she was high above the pitch, circling. The Bludger was fighting valiantly to get away, but Nym held on grimly. There would be no more girls at practices from now on. She let go the Bludger and swung the bat at the place where he arm had been a second before, hitting the Bludger before it had a chance to go anywhere. It flew, fast and dangerous, straight into the group of girls, knocking two aside before it smashed into Eloise Grigglesworth before rebounding back up to Nym, who smashed it again towards the knot of panicked girls.

She was going to pay for this, she knew; she knew it with the same crystal clarity that she knew her own name. She couldn't care, though, any price was worth it. She wasn't quite so sure of that when, the next day, a smiling Dumbledore sentenced her to a month's worth of detentions under Snape's critical eye. At any rate, it had had the desired effect. No more girls came to practice, and Mitch was very careful to keep his equipment well out of her reach.


	26. Ravens

Nym curled morosely in her corner of the train compartment she shared with her friends, her mother's latest correspondence crumpled in her hand. Hardly anything all year, and then a note saying that she would be spending another summer with her aunt and uncle. Nym had fired back an angry reply, demanding to know why her parents didn't just disown her, and have her aunt and uncle adopt her instead. That, in turn, had brought an angry letter from her mother, saying that it was for her own good, not to be ridiculous, and that she should appreciate the sacrifice her parents were making for her. It was that letter that was now crumbled in Nym's hand, torn in half in one brief period of intense rage at her mother.

Rick had tried to be conciliatory, but Nym simply wasn't in the mood for sympathy. In the end, he'd shrugged, and told her that he would be around to visit as often as he could, if his father didn't ship him off to North Hampton to stay with Sybil and her part of the family. For her part, Nym had already accepted the invitation to spend a week with Mandy and Zack, in a moment of rashness not caring what her uncle would think.

"Shows what you know." Mandy's tart voice broke into Nym's thoughts, dragging her back to her surroundings. "Nym agrees with me, don't you Nym?"

"Sorry, what?" Nym asked, confused.

Mandy sighed deeply, letting everyone know of her suffering. "Fenbrus Burlax deserves to play for England."

This was the first Nym had heard of it. "How come?" she asked stupidly. She'd never seen World Cup quidditch, but she had thought it was really high caliber. Bruce was… nice, but he wasn't the greatest player. Not by a long way.

"Because he's an amazing player. He's the best at Hogwarts."

Nym shot a look at Zack. Surely he didn't believe that. She could think of half a dozen who were better. No Beaters, maybe, but she'd never thought any of the teams used their Beaters to their full potential. And since when did Mandy care the least about quidditch? She hated to fly.

"You just like him because you think he's good looking," her brother snapped.

"That's not true. He's a really good player. Tell him, Nym."

Nym looked at her friend blankly. Not even for Mandy would she tell such a blatant lie. Well, not unless it was really, really important, but this definitely wasn't. "Nym?"

Nym shook her head. "I'm sorry Mandy, I just don't agree. He's a nice enough guy, and a decent captain, but not more than an average player."

"Shows what you know, I guess," said Mandy huffily, and retreated behind her magazine.

Jimmy spoke for the first time the whole train ride. "I think he has potential, but not as a Beater. He could be a decent Keeper, if he worked at it."

Nym looked at her quiet friend in surprise. "I didn't know you paid attention to quidditch."

"I don't, really. But I saw him practicing one day, and, well, he seemed like Keeper material." Now that she thoughts of it, Bruce probably would have been a better Keeper than a Beater. But how had Jimmy known that, Nym wondered. He wouldn't have stopped to watch them practicing, so he must have been able to tell that from a glance. She couldn't believe that he might be a secret quidditch fanatic, but nothing else made sense. How else could he have made such an assessment so quickly? With a mental shrug, she put it out of her mind to be considered at some future time. Preferably when she had an afternoon free, so she could consider Jimmy's various other eccentric qualities at the same time.

Jimmy didn't say anything else, just returned to his guitar and the purring Morwyn in his lap. Zack caught her glance and rolled his eyes expressively. He seemed to find Jimmy more than a bit strange, and had a bit less tolerance that any of the rest of them, except maybe his sister. Whatever he thought, Nym liked Jimmy. He wasn't a great conversationalist, but he was always there, and he was really good at listening, which was sometimes nicer than having someone else talking, especially when Nym was upset, what with James and Sirius and Remus being gone.

She'd needed that a lot lately. Snivellus was completely unbearable, her mother was distant and cold, Mandy was increasingly moody, and Zack… there was nothing wrong with Zack, except that sometimes Nym found herself looking for him, and missing him when he wasn't there. She had a fairly good idea that she was developing a crush on him, something she sincerely wished to avoid. Sure, Zack was good looking, and fun, but he was her friend, and that would be just... weird. And, of course, she was going back to her aunt and uncle's for the summer. Narcissa had written long, chatty letters throughout the year, especially after the baby had been born. Then they had been full of news about baby Draco - he had smiled for the first time, he'd said his first word, he seemed completely fascinated with the sword collection in Lucius's study, and would stare at it every time Narcissa took him into the room (if he wasn't asleep) - and pictures of a round faced baby that Nym assumed must be a cousin. Privately, she was a bit concerned for him, growing up dressed in all that lace that Narcissa seemed to think looked so cute on him, but Lucius would probably put a stop to that soon enough. Nym wasn't keen on her cousin growing up dressed in nothing but black, either, but it was better than lace. And frilly bows.

When the train pulled up to the station, Nym took her time getting off. No one was coming to get her; her uncle had sent the coach, figuring she could manage by herself. Jimmy hung back with her, his guitar on his back and Morwyn asleep in his arms, until Nym at last could think of no other reason to dawdle, and stepped into the coach. Then Jimmy passed the slumbering kitten up to her mistress.

"I'll see you later," Nym said, smiling as best she could. She was going to miss Jimmy, she realized with a pang. He was like another Morwyn; he mostly slept, and stared into space, and he hardly ever made a sound, but he was soothing to have around. Merlin knew, she was going to need that over the summer.

Jimmy smiled up at her. "Yeah." He turned and walked back to where his own trunk sat on its own on the platform. Nym's heart went out to him, left alone.

"Wait, Jimmy," she called suddenly, surprising even herself. When he paused to look back at her, she spoke hurriedly, "Do you want to come with me? You could floo back to your place from my uncle's, he won't mind…" She trailed off. Jimmy was watching her with that unreadable, cat-like expression of his. Then, he smiled and nodded, the grin flashing on and off his face in an instant. He went to grab his trunk and Nym, excited, jumped out to help him, leaving Morwyn to sleep on the velvet coach seat.

The trip to the manor with Jimmy was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. They talked a little, and played with Morwyn, who had decided that she couldn't sleep in the bumping coach. Jimmy wouldn't bring his guitar out, but he sang some of an old wizard ballad, full of love and treachery and great battles.

The door to the manor opened of its own accord, greeting someone it now recognized as part of the family. The two children dragged their trunks across the marble entry hall. Nym relished the noise it made, horrible and cacophonous. They didn't get very far into the manor before Madame Pince arrived, as full of fury as the other Madam Pince, who tended the Hogwarts library.

"Young lady, just what do you think you are doing?" she demanded, hands on her large hips. She glared at Nym from half way up the main stairway, with a malevolence strong enough that Nym could feel it, even so far away.

"Pardon?" Nym asked, looking at the housekeeper coolly.

"Look at the mess you are making, you foolish-"

Nym looked back at the entry hall where she had dragged her trunk. She couldn't see any sort of mess from here, and she doubted the housekeeper could from her place on the stairs.

"- ungrateful, treacherous-"

"What mess?"

Madam Pince paused in mid-rant, and gave Nym a very pointed look. "Look behind you."

"I did. There isn't any mess."

"Young lady, if you dare…"

"Stuff it, lady," Nym said, pointing her wand at the housekeeper, who was quite suddenly gagged. Jimmy gave Nym a slightly wry look, and she blushed. Yes, she was showing off. But it was just like Jimmy, even though he'd caught her at it, not to say a word.

Lucius chose that moment to make his grand entrance. He marched into the entrance hall, black traveling cloak swirling about him, head held high. He didn't even seem to see his housekeeper, standing with a gang in her mouth, but looked right through her as his eyes swept the room for Nym.

When he saw her he smiled, though with his mouth alone. She had never seen Lucius smile with his eyes, as though true amusement were something alien to him. "Welcome home, Nymphadora."

"Hello, uncle. I'd like to introduce you to my friend Jimmy."

Jimmy and Lucius shook hands, just as Lucius did with his adult friends. "A pleasure, Master Jimmy."

"Yes, Mister Malfoy," replied Jimmy dutifully, just as Rick had when he'd come to pick Nym up at the manor the summer before.

"Won't your parents be worried if they don't know where you are?" Lucius asked, sounding as if he were genuinely concerned. Of course, Nym thought, Lucius was a Slytherin. Deceitful and cunning were a given for any Slytherin personality. For all she could tell, he might well be up to something horrible. She'd heard plenty of stories from Sirius, and though she'd yet to see anything really evil of her uncle, she had no illusions that he was the nice, if somewhat overbearing, man he pretended to be around her.

"Nah," Jimmy said, and then the front doorbell rang.

A wave of Lucius's hand opened the door to an irate witch in long purple robes that matched her large-framed glasses. The slight summer breeze stirred the folds of the robes, and Nym thought she looked horribly imposing and not just a little crazy. She didn't even bother to greet Lucius before she launched into a tirade.

"Jimmy Raven, just what do you think you're playing at? I arrive at the station, and what do I find? Not you, that's for sure!"

She might have kept on in this vein for some time had not Lucius, ever conscious of his dignity, intervened. "What is the meaning of this, Madame?"

The woman was very nearly the color of her robes. "What is the meaning of your kidnapping my son, I'd like to know!" she returned hotly. Lucius's eyes narrowed in distaste, and Nym could feel her own doing the same, before she smoothed her face to polite blankness. Now was no time to be acting like one of her nasty pure-blooded relatives. "I ought to call the authorities!" On the other hand, glaring at the woman seemed like a wonderful idea all of a sudden.

"And have them arrest you for trespassing on my property," Lucius snapped. "A wonderful idea."

The woman tossed her long blond hair in irritation. "You just watch yourself, _Mister _Malfoy. Come along, Jamison. I don't want to catch you anywhere near a Malfoy ever again, do you understand me?" she demanded, dragging a reluctant Jimmy out the door. Nym's last view of her friend was his panicked and reluctant face, looking back at her with regret as his mother pulled him away.

Nym and Lucius stood in silence for a minute, before Lucius spoke. "I wasn't aware you were friends with one of the Raven's." He said it without any expression, as though it didn't really interest him, although Nym could tell that it did, and quite a bit.

"I didn't realize it was something of note," she returned, hoping he would give her some clue of his thoughts.

Lucius looked at her thoughtfully. "You wouldn't, would you? Despite my best efforts, you still resist all attempts to bring you into proper society."

Nym raised one skeptical eyebrow at her uncle. "And you would consider that proper, I presume."

His thin smile said he found her amusing, but that she had best not try too much more wit in the future, as it wasn't all that funny. "The Raven's are a very old family, almost as old as the Malfoy's." He said that as though it were all that mattered. "But not, perhaps, the best bred family. They have a habit of producing some quite unsavory characters."

And the Malfoy's didn't? Nym wondered. Or the Black's, for that matter. "Your friend Jimmy comes from the worst possible branch, you know. The father played quidditch for the Isle of Mann for a time, before he was expelled for tampering with the opposition's brooms."

"Who was that woman?" Nym asked. "She hardly seemed well bred." Ah, the magic words, Nym thought, as she saw her uncle preparing himself for another lecture on breeding.

"Not hardly, Nymphadora. Well spotted of you. I suppose something's gone into that head of yours in the time you've been with us. See here: Constance Raven was born Connie Skeeter. The family has only been magical for about sixty years, and was purely muggle before that. They still throw up quite a few squibs. Comes from having too much muggle blood in the line; dilutes the magic, you see. Now, that wouldn't be such a crime, there are plenty of decent magical folk who come from such lines way back, but the Skeeters are really the most detestable people. Not a one of them has had a respectable job in the past thirty years, and not likely before that either. And don't you be asking what a respectable job is, missy, I know you. Your aunt would have a fit if she knew I'd said even this much." He gave Nym a very pointed look. "Just remember, girl, you can't get diamonds out of manure."

But you can get flowers, Nym wanted to say, but didn't. She'd already pushed her uncle far enough for one day. Instead she said, "Yes, uncle."

He nodded. "It is good to have you here again. Narcissa will be pleased."

Nym curtsied, the only proper reply. Lucius nodded again, evidently pleased that she had remembered the correct response to such a remark, and swept out the door. Nym made her way up the stairs, past the irate and still gagged house-keeper towards her room. It looked like it was going to be a very long summer indeed.


	27. Letters

_Dear Nym,_

_Have you done the homework I sent you yet? Oh, and I hope you are well, of course. You're probably going to say how I should have said that first, instead of asking about your homework, but priorities are important. I'm sorry I haven't written since you came out here for spring break, but of course you set the entire faculty in an uproar, and we've only just got it all sorted out. Doctor Richtus wanted to bring you out again over the summer, but we figured your uncle probably wouldn't allow it. We still aren't completely sure what happened to that feather the cockatrice put on you, but it seems as though it intereacted somehow with your morphic field, which, what with you being a metamorphamagi and all, is highly unstable as it is. It doesn't seem to have affected your ability to change, but try to avoid having anyone transfigure you into anything. Too many changes in morphic fields can be dangerous, and there's no telling if we'd be able to reverse whatever happened to you. If, admittedly, anything did. The thing about the cockatrice feather, at least in the wolfsbane potion, is that it seems to act as an inhibiting agent, which is why it's so surprising that it doesn't stop or at least slow your changes. Doctor Richtus thinks it might act as a sort of shield against transfiguring spells aimed at you, and he wanted you here to test it out. We'll certainly find time later to check, don't you worry._

_I really can't understand what you were blathering on about last time we talked. The fact of the matter is that Bianca has agreed to go out with Julius Santos. How you ever thought I had a chance, I'll never know. On a happier note, the wolfsbane potion is perfected, and ready to be brewed by other people. Only a potion master would dare try it, I think, because it's still an amazingly complex piece of work, but it will certainly help a number of werewolves. We're working on a cure now, but it will probably be many years before we make an progress what so ever. Still, we must keep hoping._

_All the best, and do your homework,_

_Remus_

_Nym,_

_I don't know what got into me, deciding I wanted to be an auror. We never sleep, we never eat, it's work all day long, and after twelve hours in the class room, its time for ten of practical application and simulations. I'm on one of my two five-minute bathroom breaks right now, so this is short. Miss you, don't you dare become an auror._

_Sirius_

_Hey Nym,_

_I saw Paddy send you an owl the other day. I hope he hasn't be whining too much. We're worked hard, of course, but not nearly so hard as he seems to think. He's just upset that most of his free time for socializing has been taken away, and that there's not enough girls here for his liking. Myself, I would have liked summers off, but the college seems to be afraid we'll get ourselves blown up if we're left to our own devices for even a few minutes. Still, Frank says second year is considerably better. I hope this is true, because six hours of sleep is really not enough. I could sleep more, I suppose, and Lily is always telling me to, but there's so much to be done, there just doesn't seem to be time enough for it all. Still, I wouldn't trade this for the world. Do you think you could graduate from Hogwarts at the end of your third year, so that you'll be here with us for our last year of college? Can't hurt to ask._

_Yours, very tired_

_James_

_Nym,_

_Sorry about my mum. She's a bit, well, you know, sometimes. Hope you and Morwen are well._

_Jimmy_

_Dear Nym,_

_I suppose I should have warned you. I wanted to, but Jimmy wouldn't hear of it. Thought his family might reflect on what you thought of him, but I know he shouldn't have worried. I mean, look at some of your relatives. In any event, here's the thing about the Ravens: they're more than a little weird. And I say that, even from my vantage point, and I have Sybil. Jimmy's dad used to play quidditch for the Isle of Mann. He was caught tampering with the other team's brooms, but the match stood, and Sicily lost the Independent States Cup. That was about ten years ago, but they're still plenty sore about it, Dad says. So the Ravens are a bit, well, more like a lot, worried about kidnappings and so on by Sicily. That, and they were always a little weird to being with. Don't worry about being embarrassed, Jimmy was probably ten times more so than you were._

_Do you think your uncle would let me come and use the quidditch pitch? I know I'm not much of a player, but I've always wanted to try playing on a world-class field._

_Rick_

_Dearest Nym,_

_What am I going to do? Stuck the whole summer with just my beastly brother for company. And get this, summer school! That's right, as though I don't do enough school work at Hogwarts. But Mum thinks they don't teach proper, necessary things at Hogwarts, like mathematics and spelling, and when I said, yes, they teach us all sorts of arithmancy and charms, she said that was exactly why I was going to the village comprehensive, and no mistake. I'm sure it's going to be simply beastly. And Zack doesn't have to go, because Dad says he needs him here to help build the boathouse, and besides, Zack's gone past the point where he could just drop into the school and pick up all he's missed. More like he's too stupid, but Mom and Dad are too nice to say so. Just because he's their son. I don't think he is, you know. I bet they hatched him out of a snake egg._

_Your__ ever suffering,_

_Mandy_

Zack didn't write.


	28. Slytherin's Loss

In some ways, Nym reflected, it was very different having a baby in the house, and in some ways it was exactly like the summer before. Uncle Lucius was forever caught up in his business, which suited Nym just fine, and what little free time Narcissa had had before was now taken up by baby Draco. And since even that wasn't enough for the little bugger's satisfaction, Nym was stuck on babysitting detail at least a couple of times each week. She didn't really mind playing with her baby cousin - Draco was cute, now that he was a regular baby and past that early stage where he'd looked like a giant purple prune, if Narcissa's many photos were anything to judge by - but it got boring fairly quickly. There was only so much you could do with someone who can hardly even sit up on their own yet.

Failing all else, of course, there was always shopping. Most of the time Nym spent in her aunt's company was in the upper eschelons of Diagon Alley, visiting all the exclusive little boutiques that catered to new mothers. And, of course, the more fashionable women's ones for clothes for Nym and Narcissa, because all the styles had changed, and the world would most certainly end if Nym was seen wearing last year's fashions. The mounds in the back of her enormous closet were growing noticeably, Nym thought, to the point where soon they would spill over, out her door and down into the main hallway.

As much as Nym hated shopping for herself, there was a certain fun in shopping with baby Draco. He had a true baby's instinct for getting in trouble, and even though he couldn't yet move about on his own, he had an alarming tendency to reach out and grab things as he was carried by them. It might not have been so bad, had he only grabbed clothes and so on. But with a true spirit for mischief, he tended to reach for those pretty, shiny, dangerous things, like the dragon's eye one shop keeper foolishly left sitting out. Nym wasn't sure, but later she thought the magical shock it had given him might have turned his already pale blond hair almost white. When he starts crawling, she thought, I'm going to have to get him a leash. Maybe if I put sequins on it, he'll be too busy playing with it to get into trouble. Or maybe it'll have to be diamonds.

That was the other thing Nym noticed right away about her baby cousin. When her other cousins, the muggle ones, had been babies, they'd taken an interest in things almost indescriminantly. Well, perhaps they preferred one color to another, or a certain type of toy, but who ever heard of a baby that discriminated based on the price of something. It didn't matter if it was pretty, or interesting, Draco automatically reached for the most expensive thing in any store. Narcissa cooed, and said it was cute, but Nym privately wondered what kind of kid her cousin would grow into.

She worried about this most during her uncle's dinner parties. How any child could grow up going to such things, she would never know, she reflected from her advanced age of not-quite-thirteen. She didn't mind the dinner parties quite so much anymore, though, because while Narcissa was required to attend, Nym was not, at least not for the entire thing. Which meant Nym was put on babysitting duty, which suited her fine, since she could take Draco, almost always fast asleep by this point, to the library with her, where Anton would help her with the long and arduous assignments that Remus kept sending her.

It was here that the man Nym knew only as Karkaroff found her one evening, after most of the guests had retired to the drawing room for a bit of port, or sherry, or whatever her uncle served that was the wizarding equivalent. Nym really wished he hadn't found her; Karkaroff was one of her uncle's friends who was closer to her in age, and seemed both pleasant and intelligent enough, but she found him a bit pompous, and no end trying. He had graduated from Hogwarts, but spent some time at Durmstrang, she knew from his endless reminiscings about the good old days, a full five years ago. He was considered, among her uncle's circle, something of an academic, and it was truly frightful that he had never been invited to study at one of Europe's finer schools of magic, the German National Academy, for instance. Whenever this came up, Nym felt her uncle's eyes on her, and worked to bring the converstation around to other things with as little awkwardness as possible. Her uncle knew that one of Nym's very good friends - he refused to acknowledge her references to Remus as one of her brothers - was currently studying at the most prestigious of the aforesaid schools, and that Nym herself had not only been invited to study there after she finished Hogwarts, but that the school was quite keen to have her over her breaks as well.

When Karkaroff found her, Nym was halfway up one of the second-level ladders, with Anton hovering fretfully nearby as he watched baby Draco trying to crawl out of the cardboard box Nym had put him in. Draco had only started moving about himself the week before, and was already eager to test the limits of his mobility. The problem with this was, currently, that moving beyond the confines of the box would send him tumbling thirty feet to the floor below. Nym was not the least worried that he would escape the many protective spells on the box, but Anton had less faith, and so watched in agony every time Nym brought her little cousin to the library and put him in his box. Draco himself seemed less than fond of his little prison, but had grown much more accepting of it since Nym had lined it with one of his velvet blankets and put in a silk pillow. Evidently it had not been the box's precarious position, but rather its plebian nature, which had so agreived the little boy.

Nym was aware of the foppishly dressed Karkaroff the moment he stepped into the library, but kept her attention on Anton, the book she was searching for and, most importantly, keeping her balance on the wobbly ladder.

"Really, Miss Nymphadora, it doesn't matter how many spells you've put on the box. You cannot guarantee the young master's safety."

Nym sighed and, having at last spotted the tome she searched for, reached out rather farther than was wise to snatch it from the shelf. She could have pulled the books down by magic, she supposed. But there was something decidedly unwise about moving spellbooks about with magic: you never knew what it might set off. Besides, she enjoyed clambering about high among the shelves. She had fallen, a couple of times, but her quidditch reflexes had let her catch herself on a bookshelf or ladder before she fell more than a foot or two. Nym gave the worried ghost a look of triumph and slid down the ladder with the ease of much practice, only to fetch up, arms waving wildly, as she tried to avoid barreling down Karkaroff who had, unnoticed, suddenly reached the bottom of her ladder.

"Decidedly unwise, Miss Nymphadora," Karakaroff sneered, once he'd recovered himself. He was twirling that annoying little goatee of his, which Nym would dearly loved to have ripped right off his feeble chin. "You might have hurt someone."

"No one of consequence, I promise you," Nym snapped. Her uncle's guests never came to the library; that was part of the appeal of the place to her.

Karkaroff, rather than search for a suitable reply, took the bully's way out and snatched the book out of her hand. "_Poisons and Potions_, Miss Nymphadora? No, no, that won't do at all. You can pretend to be as smart as you like for your uncle, but you and me, we know better, don't we? Best not play with this, or you'll get hurt."

"You and I," Nym corrected, snatching her book back.

"What?"

"You and I, not you and me." Nym rolled her eyes. "Go away, boy, you're bothering me." Had she been anywhere other than Malfoy Manor, Nym never would have said such a thing to Karkaroff who, despite his annoying nature, had many years more experience working magic than she did. However, Malfoy Manor was far more than just a house: it had been the stronghold of the Malfoy family for generations and, as an accepted Malfoy (by the house, if not by all her relations), the house would do everything it could to protect Nym which, as it happened, was quite a lot. Most wizarding families put in a few defence spells outside the house but the Malfoys, being both somewhat more suspicious and a good deal richer than most, had them liberally scattered throughout the house and grounds. Anyone that threatened Nym, excepting her aunt and uncle, would be forcibly ejected from the Manor very quickly.

Karkaroff's eyes narrowed, but he didn't make a comment. Nym had no doubt that Lucius had made it abundantly clear that his guests were here at his pleasure, and given some indication of the defence spells. Karkaroff just had to decide if he thought Nym could command those spells, and how much he stood to lose if he was wrong.

"What are you doing here, Karkaroff?"

"Your uncle has some books he said I might borrow."

"From the library?"

"Yes, of course," he snapped.

Nym shrugged. "Fair enough. Don't let me keep you."

She took her book and, calling Draco's box to come after her, left the library. The box, she decided as she ran down the front stairs and snatched a broom out of the closet, was a decidedly good idea. She'd have to modify it once Draco gained a bit more mobility, but for now she could take him with her, without having him slow her down or having to worry about what happened to him.

She reached the front gates of the Manor just seconds before Karkaroff appeared with a violent bang, his robes smoldering and his stupid little goatee looking decidedly worse for wear. Of the books he had mentioned, there was no sign. Nym need not have raced out here to meet him, but adding insult to injury, especially in the case of Karkaroff, was too good a chance to pass up.

"The Malfoys don't like having their books stolen," she told him, and turned her broom to fly back to the house. She had never trusted Karkaroff, no more than any others among her uncle's friends, but she hadn't thought him to be quite so stupid. Most old wizarding families, she had been told, kept wardings on their libraries to protect the family secrets. Hogwarts had one of the most elaborate protection systems there was, if _Hogwarts: A History_ was to be believed, but it was no where near so obvious as the one at the Manor.

Lucius would never have lent a book out. It wasn't that he was a great reader, or particularily cared about the books themselves. But the books in the Malfoy library were rare, and most of them contained very potent spells. And if there was one thing Nym knew about her uncle, it was that he had no desire to share power, or even potential power, with anyone.

Lucius met her at the front door. "What happened?" he demanded as she dismounted her broom and stashed it back in the closet. "The library spells..."

Nym shrugged. "Karkaroff thought he might borrow some books, Uncle," she said as nonchalantly as she could. "He seemed to think you wouldn't mind."

Lucius visibly changed what he had been about to say. "And where is he now?"

"Most likely dealing with the results of a few very unpleasant hexes. For an academic, Uncle, your friend Karkaroff is remarkably stupid."

Again, Lucius visibly controlled himself. "And you were…?" he asked, looking pointedly at the book under Nym's arm.

"Adding insult to injury, uncle. I do hope you don't invite him again, he is most terribly odious." She gave her uncle a very pointed look, and he laughed. Mr. Goyle, standing behind him and Mr. Crabbe, who held the door, both laughed dutifully as well.

"It was a terrible loss to Slytherin when you went to Gryffindor, Nymphadora. You would have done the House proud."

Nym laughed. "Thank you, Uncle. But that House has more than enough misplaced pride. I'm happy where I am." She sauntered up the main staircase. Below her, she could hear Lucius quietly berating Mr.'s Crabbe and Goyle, though over what she really couldn't have said. She felt a right little twerp, speaking the way she had to when at the Manor, but if it meant making fun of people like Karakaroff, well, she'd put up with it.


	29. Gryffindor's Gain

_I know it's been a long time. And I've been trying, really I have. But the story was dying on me, so I decided to speed things up a bit. This chapter was supposed to be in Nym's fourth year, but it works just fine in her third, and I've already got enough stuff planned for the fourth. Which is why this took so long, I suppose, since the third was an utter void. That has been remedied. As always, reviews are much loved._

Nym frowned thoughtfully at her reflection. She couldn't change it in some big and noticeable way, as she did when she became Minetta, but surely she could give herself a haircut without exciting too much comment. She had, according to her aunt, a pretty heart-shaped face, which it was a shame to hide beneath all that hair. Whether Narcissa was right about her being pretty was open to debate, but Nym was quite sick of her hair getting in her face, even when she tried tying it back. She frowned at the girl in the mirror, willing her to have shorter, almost spikey hair.

When Nym was satisfied with the result, she was quite positive her uncle would be furious. She smiled slightly at the thought. No matter; she would be leaving this morning anyway, back to Hogwarts for her third year. She wasn't completely sure she was looking forward to it. Again, there would be no Marauders to make life interesting, although she still wrote Sirius and Remus often. James wrote when he could, but he and Lily were busy with the new baby, and James of course was still at the Auror's college. Regulus, unfortunately, would still be there, though in his final year. She ought to have been more worried about how much more advanced at magic he was than her, but she put it out of her mind. She'd held her own last year, and would again this year.

On the other hand, third year held any number of exciting possibilities. There was the chance to go to Hogsmeade as herself, although Nym wondered if she would be able to pretend she had never been there before. It occurred to her that all the people who knew and liked Minetta Nigellus would never have heard of Nym Tonks. Rick had been talking all last year about how he couldn't wait to show her around Hogsmeade. It would be nice to have someone to go with, unlike last year, when she'd had to go all on her own.

Then there were the new classes. She'd looked over all the new options, and truth be told very few of them had interested her. She had signed up for Care of Magical Creatures and left all the other slots blank, hopefully freeing up a bit of extra time in her schedule. Whoever did the scheduling would probably just throw her into something, which was fine with Nym. She wanted to be an Auror, and already had all the required courses.

Narcissa gave a little shriek when Nym came downstairs with her new haircut. At first she seemed upset at the loss of Nym's long hair, but this was quickly changed to pleasure at how the new style suited Nym. With the ease of long practice, Nym ignored her aunt's comments, except to give an appropriate murmured response once in a while to show she was still listening.

Lucius made a "hurumph" kind of noise, which Nym took to mean, "well, if you must." He opened the door for her and, stopping only to give her teary-eyed aunt a hug, Nym made her solitary way to her carriage. Fleetingly, she longed for that day at the beginning of her first year, when her teary-eyed mother had kissed her goodbye on the train platform. True, she had been scared out of her mind, and had subsequently fallen in the lake, but at least there had been someone there to say goodbye to her. She hadn't really forgiven her mother, yet, but she did miss her terribly.

As usual, Nym was one of the first to arrive at the platform. She dreaded the boring time she would have to spend, sitting in a compartment and waiting for her friends to find her. As she stepped out of the carriage, though, and saw all the timid little first years waiting with their somewhat tearful parents, a slightly crazy plan began to take shape in her mind. Rick hadn't needed to come and sit with her that first day; he had lots of other friends. But he had, and look what a difference it had made! And that first year, she'd had James and Remus and Sirius keeping an eye over her shoulder, keeping her out of trouble (when they weren't dragging her headlong into it), and in general helping her out. In contrast, Nym didn't know anyone in the year behind her. Well, she thought determinedly, she would change that.

At first her plan was to seek out what looked to be the shyest, quietest little first year, the one that would be huddled in the corner of a compartment somewhere, probably balling their eyes out at leaving their dear mum and dad. After all, a few years ago that had been her. But something stopped her. She hadn't been a mouse when she first came to Hogwarts, she'd only thought she was. The Maurauders had shown her how wrong that self-assessment was. Mandy was a mouse, for all she roared like a lion at things that couldn't hurt her (like Rick). Nym was not.

"Come on Morwyn. Let's find us a mousie that'll fight back," she told her cat. Morwyn swatted playfully at her mistress's nose. First, though, Nym stashed her trunk on the train, so that she could begin her quest unencumbered by her luggage, the amount of which had grown alarmingly ever since she began staying with the Malfoys.

There were lots of first years Nym passed as she made her way along the train. Some of them had met up with childhood friends, and were happily swapping hear-say stories about Hogwarts. Others tagged along silently behind an older sibling or cousin, watching wide-eyed and staying out of the way. She saw one or two, curled up in the corners of their compartments, oblivious to the world, or bawling to their mothers who stood outside their compartment windows. But towards the back of the train, she found him.

He was a skinny boy, tall for his age, so his feet reached all the way to the floor when he sat, unlike most of his year-mates. His robes looked a little worn, as though he'd had the for some time, or they were hand-me-downs. They were well cared for, though, and Nym doubted she would have noticed their age if she hadn't spent so much time with Narcissa, who had lately decreed that 'softly aged' was the newest style. She dropped into the seat across from him. The boy looked up from his quidditch magazine, startled, and stared at her through bright red hair that fell into his eyes.

"Wotcher," Nym greeted him. "Nym Tonks. And you are?"

"Billy Weasley." He extended an affiable hand to her. "You a second year?"

"Third," Nym said with a small grin. She'd only just met him, and she liked this boy already. No cringing wee mousie was he! "Gryffindor. And you'd be a wee little firsty, still without a House."

Billy paused for a moment, obviously deciding how to reply. Then he grinned at her in return. "This wee firsty is taller than you." Nym stuck her tongue out at him, trying to hide her delight.

"You're here pretty early, firsty. How come?" Nym asked, curious.

Billy rolled his eyes. "My mum. She's so anxious about me coming here, she's been balling her eyes out for the last week! It's embarrassing. And you? Eager to get back to work?"

Nym laughed. "Not a bit of it. But I _am _looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts."

"It sounds amazing," Billy commented, and Nym grinned in reply.

"You should have seen it when my brothers were there. Damn if it wasn't the most exciting place in the world." And she proceded to tell him about the time the boys had stolen all of Snivellus's underwear, and hung them in the Great Hall in place of the normal hangings. Not the most original prank, but in terms of scale and shock value, a good one. "Only don't spread it around. He'll probably be teaching you Potions this year."

Billy shrugged. "But it's worth remembering for when he's being a bugger."

"That it is."

"You're lucky to only have three brothers, though."

"Only?" Nym asked.

Billy nodded, a bit miserably. "I have five. Little Ron was just born in the spring, and Mum's already talking about trying again. She really wants a girl."

Nym snorted. "And with six of you silly buggers, no wonder."

"Hey, your mum had three silly buggers of her own," Billy shot back.

"Not a bit of it," Nym replied cheerfully. "I'm an only child. My brothers and I just adopted each other. One's actually my mum's cousin."

"Bugger. That's quite the confused family. Are you sure..."

"There you are!" Whatever Billy had been going to say next was cut off by a jubilant Mandy. She fluttered in, a feathery scarf about her neck, and gave Nym a hug. "I have so much to tell you, oh, I have no idea where to start!" Nym rolled her eyes at Billy over Mandy's shoulder. He grinned back at her, plainly amused by her friend. "Let me look at you," Mandy declared, stepping back to hold Nym at arm's length, just as her Aunt Emily had used to do when she was little. "Why, your hair! Your beautiful hair! What in heaven's name have you done to it?"

"Ach, away with you," Nym said, a bit red faced. "I like it this way."

"You'll have to forgive her," an amused voice in the compartment doorway said. "Mum let her watch too many movies over the summer." Nym felt like her heart stopped for a second when she saw Zack leaning jauntily in the doorway. He'd grown over the summer, and his shoulders filled out his robes much better than they had before. Now why would I notice that, she wondered. She shoved both thoughts irritably aside. She wasn't some brainless twat like one of the "Lion Grlz," falling in love with any halfway good-looking boy that glanced at her twice.

"You'll have to forgive my brother," Mandy retorted. "He was dropped on his head as a child. Who's the firsty?" she asked, noticing Billy for the first time.

"Billy," Nym said, "I'd like to introduce to you two very good friends of mine. The one in the dumb scarf is Mandy, third year Hufflepuff, and that sorry example of the human species is her brother Zack, fifth year Ravenclaw."

"Every House but Slytherin," Billy observed, his face neutral.

"Our Nym isn't so fond of Slytherins, not since one took it into his head to kill her," observed a newcomer in lofty tones.

"Rick," Nym greeted him, her mouth twisting slightly in distaste. "Regulus is not trying to kill me. He's just a bullying git. I don't think Mandy was the only one who hit her head this summer."

Rick shrugged affiably. "Whatever you say, dearest. Hallo, Weasley, how are you?"

"Trelawney, isn't it?" Billy returned. "Fairly well, and yourself?"

"Much better, now that I have my darling Nym back again." He dropped into the seat beside Nym and slung his arm around her shoulders in a very affected way.

"Oh, get off," Nym muttered. Rick and Zack were chuckling, but Mandy looked ready to do murder, even if no one else had noticed it yet.

"How do you know Billy, Rick?"

"Is that the one? Knew it was a Weasley. There's just so damn many of you," he added apologetically to Billy.

The first year shrugged. "Don't apologize to me. My mum's the one that has to deal with us all."

"Red-haired and freckled to the man, they are too, the whole brood. And then the names just - pop! - right out of my head."

"Oh, be serious. How come I've never met so many of the people you know?"

"That, darling, is because your relatives will never sully themselves with us common folk."

"If by 'common folk' you mean the sort that don't serve twelve course meals, then yes. But that doesn't mean their friends aren't total scum."

"Not arguing, sweetheart." He put his arm back around her, and Nym shrugged it off with an irritated sound.

"You're one of those old family purebloods?" Billy sounded surprised, then seemed to realize what he'd said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

Nym waved him to silence. "Hardly. My mother was a Black, but they disowned her when she married a muggle-born." She shrugged. "But I've been staying with my aunt and uncle lately, and they…"

"Are the Malfoys," Rick supplied, as though that explained everything. And apparently it did, because Billy nodded and made a sort of 'I understand' noise.

"If you're done?" Mandy asked huffily.

Rick leered playfully at her. "What's wrong, Mandy? Upset that you aren't the center of attention?"

With a huff, Mandy dropped into a seat and pulled out her magazine, pointedly ignoring Rick, who just shrugged as though to say 'What did I do?'

"That wasn't very nice," Nym chided quietly.

Rick chuckled. "We'll discuss that later," he said, his tone oddly serious, and his eyes moved very pointedly towards both the Smith children. "So, young Weasley," he added, jovial once more, "excited to go to Hogwarts, I'm sure. It's a grand old place, to be sure, but did anyone tell you about the Crumple-skinned buffkin that lives behind the herbology shed? No? Why then…" and he proceeded to give Billy a highly imaginative account of a creature that preyed primarily on unwary first year students.

Billy, for his part, listened very seriously to the whole account, and then commented, "If it's invisible, how did you manage to spot it?" Which prompted a careful explanation of a pair of magical glasses Rick just happened to own. When Billy rolled his eyes again, Rick switched to an elaborate tale about a first year student that fell out of one of the boats that took the firsties across the lake, and how the child was never seen again. Zack, by this time, had taken his seat across from Nym, stretching his legs across the compartment. Nym was uncomfortably aware of how close he was. _It's just his _feet_, for Merlin's sake,_ she chided herself. Zack didn't notice the effect he was having on her, but was instead engrossed in helping Rick with his story.

"Bosh," Billy said when they were done. "No one's ever fallen out of the boats."

"Want to bet?" Rick demanded.

Afraid this was going to lead to an account of her own disastrous arrival at Hogwarts, Nym cut in. "Leave him be, Rick."

Sensing her mood, Rick did stop, but only after adding a final warning. "Just don't you lean too far over the side, you hear?" Billy rolled his eyes and promised to be good.

As they left the train and parted ways, Nym paused just long enough to clap a hand on Billy's shoulder. "We'll save you a seat for when you get put in Gryffindor," she told him, then slipped away through the crowd.


	30. Two Girls

_They're coming. Oh so slowly, the chapters are coming. Please please please, review, I love hearing from you all. _

"Come _on_, Nym, let's go," Mandy pleaded, practically hopping in frustration. Nym gazed levelly at her friend, then very slowly and deliberately took a bite of her sausage.

"It's a village, Mandy. It will still be there waiting when I'm done breakfast."

"But aren't you excited? Our first Hogsmeade visit! And just in time for Halloween! Oh, I can't wait!"

In fact, Nym was anything but excited. If asked, she might have said (if she felt like being honest) that she was dreading it. She liked - no, loved - Hogsmeade, but no one there knew her. They just knew Minetta. If they had ever met Nym, it was as a clumsy little girl at the Potters' wedding. She really wished it hadn't been necessary to disguise herself that first trip with Remus, that somehow it had been possible to go as herself.

Rick appeared as if by magic when Nym finally pushed her plate away. "Fine, Mandy. I don't know why I let you talk me into this. Oh, Rick, don't tell me you were in on this too."

"Of course, my fair darling," Rick proclaimed, sweeping a bow that truly would have put Lucius to shame. "It brings me untold joy to be able to share this day with you."

Sensing Mandy's suddenly sour mood, Nym knew she shouldn't have taken the arm Rick offered her, but with a delicate cursty, she did so anyway. Ever the gallant one, Rick offered Mandy his other arm, which she declined with a sneer.

As the trio made their way down to the village, Nym reflected on her friends' relationship. It seemed to her that, despite their frequent quarrels, Mandy and Rick were, well, interested in one another, to put it in a way that avoided all those stupid, empty-headed phrases that her roommates used. Mandy, from reading her teen magazines (why were they _teen _magazines? Nym found herself wondering. Only girls read them) had probably convinced herself she either loved Rick - in which case he was the one true love of her life - or she hated him absolutely. Well, it was obvious Mandy like Rick. But did he return the interest? Nym watched her friend sidelong. Perhaps. He didn't act any different towards Mandy than he ever had. She did wonder, however, what had turned the normally pragmatic Rick into this garishly outgoing young man she had been subjected to over the last two months. When they talked, he was still the thoughtful, insightful boy who had first befriended her, which made his dramatic little episodes all the stranger.

"What can I show you lovely ladies today?" Rick asked when they reached the village. "Hogsmeade is truly a wonderus place for two beauties such as yourselves." Mandy glared at him. Nym rolled her eyes.

"Why don't we just work our way along the main street?" Nym suggested. There were all sorts of interesting nooks and cranies in Hogsmeade, but she doubted very much that Rick knew about them. After all, he didn't have the Marauders for brothers.

So Rick, playing the part of tour guide, took them along the main street, starting at the Shrieking Shack and working their way down. Mandy looked a little skeptically at the decrepit old house when Rick told them stories about it that he swore were true. Nym, again, just rolled her eyes and kept silent. She'd had the full story of the Shack from her brothers, and in a way it was more terrifying than any of the children's tales Rick was telling, if only because it affected someone so close to her. Really, though, she had to wonder what could possibly have scared a wizarding community about the house so badly. Haunted? Hogwarts had more than its share of ghosts, and a poltergeist to boot. Perhaps it was only because Dumbledore had warned them away from it. If Dumbledore warned her away from something, Nym figured she'd probably do her best to avoid it. Or would at least arm up considerably before disobeying him.

When Rick and Mandy decided to finish up the day with a bottle of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, Nym made her excuses and headed back up the street and ducked into a dark alley. A few words conjured a mirror and, moments later, Min walked out. Nym wished she could have done something about her school robes, but she didn't know any spells for clothing, so she contented herself with hiding the Gryffindor crest on her robes. Far from ideal, but it would do.

People that had watched her without any recognition as she walked along between Mandy and Rick now came up to greet her, and ask after her summer. Almost all the residents of the village knew little Minetta, with her pretty golden hair and big eyes. Not so little now, some of the women clucked approvingly, but growing into a beautiful young woman, just you watch out for those young men, missy. Mrs. Honeyduke slipped her a piece of fudge when she stopped by the sweet shop, and Mr. Goodewin at the quidditch shop took her back to see the new racing brooms that hadn't even been unpacked yet. Nym stroked them with reverent fingers: Malfoy Manor didn't even have one of these beauties yet.

She was waving goodbye to Mr. Goodewin, promising to bully her brothers into writing the cheery man, when she walked straight into a wall. Or not a wall at all, she found as she collapsed in a heap of arms and legs, but a handsome and well built young man. Seeing who it was, Nym flushed crimson, and scrambled to get to her feet and away from Zack as fast as she could. Even as she hurried to try and get away, he was there, helping her to her feet and making sure she was alright.

"It's Minetta, isn't it? I don't know if you remember, I'm Zack. We met at the Potter's wedding."

Why had he been there in there in the first place? Nym wondered. Zack had never been close to any of her brothers; he had sort of worshiped them from afar, as so many of the younger kids had, but had been too in awe to get close enough to meet them. Rather than expressing any of this, she settled for saying, "I remember."

"I'm so sorry. Can I take you to the Broomsticks to make up for it?" Who uses a line like that? Nym wondered, and it was quickly followed by another thought: Is Zack asking me out? One part of Nym was thrilled, but she shoved it down. It wasn't her Zack was asking out, it was Minetta. And Zack hardly knew Minetta. All the same… she shoved the thought away forcefully.

"Thank you. Some other time, perhaps? I really need to get going."

"Are you sure…?"

"I'll see you around," she promised. Now why did I promise him that? She wondered as she hurried away through the village, irrational fear making her take every back alley and twist she knew, as though to throw off pursuit. As far as she was concerned, Minetta died today, and would never walk in Hogsmeade again. Why did it bother her so much that Zack had looked so upset when she brushed him off and hurried away?

It was a very gloomy Nym that trudged back up to the castle. She had had fun with Rick and Mandy, even with the two of them constantly at each other's throats. And she had enjoyed seeing all her old friends, well, Minetta's friends, in Hogsmeade. But that run in with Zack… she just barely suppressed a groan. Why did being a teenager have to be so complicated? She'd only turned thirteen a few months ago, and already she wished for the simplicity of being a child. Mandy seemed to almost enjoy the headache that went along with raging hormones and unrequited crushes; Nym just wished it would happen to someone else so she could get on with life in peace. Or even that she could have a nice, simple relationship like the muggle teens had. After all, if she wasn't a witch, she would never be at risk of ending up in a love triangle where she played the part of both the girls.

What was the problem? Nym asked herself as she walked. She wanted Zack to notice her as a girl, rather than a little sister sort of friend. And he had. But it's _me _I want him to notice, she thought fiercely. Not some snooty little princess like Minetta. Minetta Nigellus is the perfect little pure-blood: she wouldn't give a muggle-born like Zack Smith the time of day. Why did it have to work out this way? she thought sullenly. Why couldn't it have been, I don't know, somehow different. Easier. She kicked a piece of gravel irritably. Right then, she just wanted to grab them all, Zack, Mandy and Rick, and smack their heads together for making her life so confusing. With a groan she turned away from the castle and made her way to the broomsheds, hoping that some time in the air would clear her head of the cobwebs that her friends seemed to be stuffing in there.


	31. Swiss Capers

_I know it's been a while since I updated, but if it helps, it's a really long one. I thought about cutting it into pieces, but I really wanted to get the whole Zurich sequence (oops, spoiler) into one chapter. I had a lot of fun on this one, but I'm afraid Sirius ran away with the story. Again. It's exams now, so consider this your Christmas present. Enjoy._

**Swiss Capers**

Chapter Thirty One

A discrete cough below her brought Nym's attention away from her book. At the bottom of the bookcase she sat on, looking up at her, was Jimmy, Morwyn in his arms. "Nym?"

Nym carefully marked her place and put the book aside. There would be time enough to read it later, but Jimmy was so quiet, a chance to talk to him was always welcome. Besides, he was one of the few people that didn't make her head hurt these days.

"I thought you were going home for the holidays."

"No." She motioned Jimmy up the ladder to join her. He came, dutifully, taking his spot beside her.

"Did you write your mother and ask?"

Nym looked down at her hands. "I wrote her."

"But you didn't ask," Jimmy guessed shrewdly.

She flushed scarlet. "No. I told her I was going to Zurich to visit Remus."

"And?"

"She hasn't replied."

Jimmy, wisely, decided not to follow that part of the conversation any further. "I would have thought you would catch the train to London if you were going to Zurich."

"It would make sense," Nym agreed. "But Sirius is coming to pick me up. He's coming too."

"Sounds like you have an exciting Christmas planned."

Nym nodded, her mind filled with imaginings of all the fun she would have in Switzerland with her brothers. "I can't wait. I really need to get away."

"From Hogwarts?"

"Yes. No. From the people. Some of them."

Jimmy glanced at her. "Is this about Rick and Mandy again?"

Nym sighed. "That's part of it. If Mandy isn't mad at Rick, she's crying because she thinks he'll never notice her. And as her best friend it's my duty, no, my privilege, to listen to her." She all but spat the last part in disgust. "And Rick, he knows she likes him. I think he likes her too. But every time they're together, he goes out of his way to antagonize her. He flirts outrageously with me, or with any other girl around, but if Mandy tries to say anything to him, he completely ignores her. And Zack… he comes crying to me because _Minetta_ won't give him the time of day, even though he spends every Hogsmeade weekend looking for her, and when he finds her, practically begging her to go out with him. It's pathetic, and even though I want him to be happy, I just wish he'd give up. And now, oh Jimmy, I'm so sorry. I hate it when people come whining to me, and then I turn around and do the same to you." She put her head in her hands, fighting back tears. It wasn't fair for life to be so damned difficult for no good reason. For the thousandth time, she wondered why she didn't make it a little bit easier by not going out as Minetta. That would solve one problem easily enough. But she knew it was because she liked to have Zack chasing her, thinking she was desirable, even if he thought he was chasing someone else. It felt nice, but it hurt too.

"I don't mind," Jimmy assured her. He put Morwyn in her lap. "And neither does she. That's what friends are for, Nym."

Impulsively, Nym reached over and gave Jimmy a big hug. "Thanks, Jimmy."

He returned it a bit awkwardly. "When's Sirius coming?" he asked, red in the face.

Nym started. "Oh no! He'll be here soon, and I'm only half done packing." She slid down the ladder, holding her book and a very disgruntled Morwyn. "Thank you so much, Jimmy. I'll see you in a couple of weeks. Happy Christmas!" She bolted for Gryffindor Tower, frantically reviewing everything she had yet to pack.

As Nym reached to close the lid of her trunk, finally packed and hopefully filled with everything she would need in Zurich, a little first year girl poked her head in the dorm room. "Nym?" she asked, uncertain. Nym looked up, and tried to smile at the girl. Had she been so little and timid in her first year? Surely not. "There's a man outside the portrait hole asking for you."

Nym slammed the trunk closed and grabbed her cloak, beckoning the luggage to follow her as she hurried down the stairs behing the girl. "Thank you," she tossed over her shoulder as she barreled out the door and into Sirius's arms. "Paddy!"

He swept her up in a big hug, twirling her around so that she just missed hitting her luggage, which hovered expectantly nearby. "How are you, little one? Ready to go?"

Nym grinned up at her big brother. "I can't wait. I can't believe we're going to Zurich! Oh Sirius, I can't tell you how excited I am."

He laughed. "Can't you just? I know. We'll get to see Remus at the Academy. See the beast in his lair, so to speak." He laughed again at seeing Nym's shocked looked. "Lighten up, girly."

Nym shook her head and laughed in reply. "I forget, sometimes, that's all."

"So what's been happening around the old place while I've been gone?"

Nym told him, talking as they made their way down to the Three Broomsticks to floo to London, and from there to the international floo hub. She'd just finished telling him about Billy, and all the scrapes she had dragged the younger boy into already, when Sirius commented, "So, are there any special boy's in my little sister's life I should be having a chat with?"

Nym paused, unsure how to respond, and then the whole situation came tumbling out. Sirius listened as she told him about Rick and Mandy, and Zack and Minetta and the whole stupid mess. When she finished she looked at him, dreading some sort of sympathy or kindly advice. Instead, all he said was, "Well, that sounds fun, doesn't it? Now Auror college, that's a whole other world of pain. Frank lied when he said second year was better. Wait, no, I take that back. It's much better at making your life a living hell."

"But you love it," Nym reminded him.

Sirius ran his hand through his hair, which he'd let grow long in what was becoming the style. "Did it ever occur to you I might be crazy."

"Of course. But I try not to hold it against you."

"I appreciate it, I promise," he returned dryly. He changed the subject again. "Do you think there will be many pretty girls in Zurich?"

Nym rolled her eyes. "Really, Paddy. Is that all you ever think about?" She cut him off when he tried to deny it. "I suppose there are, although I seem to remember you like them tanned and scantily clad. I don't know how many girls are going to be running around in bikinis at Christmas." She gave him a very pointed look.

"A man can dream, can't he?"

"Oh, and Paddy? The Swiss are nice people, but they won't tolerate you when you're drunk. Although really, we should have done something sooner when you started going around sniffing people's butts."

"I never."

"Did so. You were just so drunk you couldn't remember. Hell, with that much in you, I'm amazed you weren't comatose!"

Sirius glared at her half-heartedly. "You make it sound like I'm a drunk or something."

"No. But you _do _party a bit more than most people. Don't give me that look."

He rolled his eyes. "I ought to tell Remus to lock you up in a lab with those experimental magicians over Christmas."

Nym's eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't. Do you have any idea what it's like to be treated like a lab rat?"

"It would only be fair."

"It most certainly would not. I was only telling the truth. You want to know what you look like?" She crossed her eyes, focusing on her nose, and making it as canine as she could. Then she lay down on bench in the waiting area where she had been sitting, leaving arms and legs dangling in all directions as she pretended to snore obnoxiously.

She opened her eyes to see Sirius bent double, holding his sides as he laughed with that great, barking laugh of his. "Do you have any idea how dumb you looked?"

"I can't do justice to the original," Nym returned primly. He stuck his tongue out at her, for all the world like he was five.

"You were telling me about that girlfriend of Remus's that he had last time," he said when he calmed down. "How come he never tells me this sort of thing?"

"Because you aren't properly sympathetic, and you've never had to struggle with a relationship. Remus wants someone to whine to, not someone to offer to take him out to a bar and set him up with a pretty whore."

"Young lady, your language…" Sirius began, in a very good imitation of Lucius.

"Oh, stuff it. You use worse all the time. And she isn't his girlfriend. Apparently she's still going out with Julius Santos."

"Why do I know that name?"

"Because Remus complains about him constantly, and I wrote to tell you what an amazing git he was. He's not a slime ball like Snivellus," she added, scrupulously honest, "but he is definitely asking for some retribution."

"For?"

"Being a git."

"Ah. We'll have to arrange that, won't we? What say we get this girlfriend away from the git and with Remus, hey?"

"It'll be like a good deed at Christmas. Remus will get the girl he wants and Bianca will no longer have to put up with a git she's way too good for."

"He'll never go for it," Sirius told her, bringing to mind Remus's extreme reluctance to engage in any prank that wasn't completely harmless.

"Then we can't let him find out." Sirius stuck out his hand, and Nym shook it. "Let's do it."

Remus met them at the international floo hub in Zurich. He took one look at their ginning faces and shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked oh-so-innocently.

"Yeah," Nym put in. "Are you saying we _aren't _happy to see you?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "It won't fly, guys. I don't know what you have planned, but I won't stand for it."

"What we have planned," Sirius drawled, "is to have an amazing Christmas in Zurich with our friend. Are you telling me you won't allow it?"

Remus gave a little chuckle. "Fine. I'll pretend to believe you."

Sirius gave him a very hurt look, and went to collect the bags that had been sent along separately. "Alright, Nym," Remus said as soon as Sirius was out of earshot. "What are you two up to?"

"You aren't trusting at all, are you?" she retorted.

Remus ran a hand through his fly-away hair. He looked as old as ever, to Nym's eye, and there were lines on his face that hadn't been there before, but he didn't look unhealthy. "I would trust the two of you with my life," he said, his face completely serious. "Just not with my love life."

"Well that's deuced silly of you, isn't it?" Nym retorted.

"Nym…" he said warningly, but anything else he was going to say was cut off by Sirius's return.

"Mooney, you twerp, you never said there were so many gorgeous girls in Switzerland. Trying to keep them all for yourself, are you?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "How in Merlin's name do you manage, Paddy? I swear, you spend every waking moment chasing skirts, and yet they still haven't kicked you out of Auror College."

"That's my natural brilliance, that is." Sirius puffed out his chest in what he probably thought was a very dashing and manly way, but which Nym thought made him look a bit like a pigeon. Remus eyed him curiously, obviously thinking much the same thing as Nym.

"Are you sure it isn't because you flirt with the professors?" James would have said it in a bantering way, Wormtail would have sneered, but Remus just said it mildly, as though he was actually serious.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, that would be it. 'Come here, Gutterburg, you old bat. Seventy years is no barrier to our love.'"

Remus grinned. "Just checking. Now Nym, about that homework…"

He was serious, too. How anyone who was so much fun could at the same time be so bookish and boring, Nym would never know. Sirius cut his friend off. "Never mind that now, Mooney. Nym told me the food at the Academy is fabulous, and I'm starved."

"Hardly fabulous," Remus returned dryly, "but there's plenty of it, and I don't remember you being too picky about what you eat."

"If this is about the turtle…"

"It wasn't, but it is now."

"That is completely unfair."

"You brought it up."

"Right. So just because I did one dumb thing in my life…"

"No. You just happened to bring up one of the dumb things you did out of a series of stupid things which you started doing _the day you were born_…"

"It was only one turtle," Nym pointed out.

Sirius gave her a _look_. "You're no help."

"As opposed to the hinkeypunk that was meant to be for the Care of Magical Creatures lecture…"

Now Remus was giving her a _look _too. "You just had to bring that up, didn't you?"

"I'm trying to be fair." She gave them a hurt look, trying for the enormous puppy eyes that Mandy used (without realizing how silly it made her look) when she wanted something.

"You're managing wonderfully, I promise," Sirius muttered.

He might have gone on, and probably would have brought up any number of foolish things that Nym herself had done, but they arrived in front of the metal and stone gates of the Academy. He paused and whistled his appreciation of the enormous, sprawling complex, most of it buried up to the windows in heavy snow.

"Yes, yes," Remus sighed. "That's the view to impress visitors. Come on," he led them around the buildings towards slightly more humble areas. "You're staying in with the students. Don't expect luxury."

It wasn't luxurious - the student quarters of the Academy lacked even a hint of the grandeur of the dormitories at Hogwarts - but is was warm and cozy and felt, to Nym, of home in a way that she couldn't remember anywhere else feeling since her mother had put her on the train that first day, two and a half years ago.

The kind, portly woman who ran the canteen fed Nym a bowl of stew that was good and plentiful, if not fabulous, and sent her to bed, while Remus and Sirius disappeared to discuss things that, they'd told Nym, there was simply no way they were going to discuss in front of her. She could have taken the invisibility cloak and spied on them, she supposed, but if anyone would spot what she was up to, it would be those two, and besides, the stew had been so warm and filling, all she really wanted to do was sleep.

Wandering through the streets of Zurich's wizarding community with Bianca, Nym felt incredibly small and not a little out of place. The other woman, wrapped in a long cloak of white, edged with blue, looked like a porcelain doll, or an artist's rendition of an ice princess. She had none of Narcissa's icy demeanor, though, for all she shared her coloring. Bianca was so sweet that at times Nym felt just the littlest bit sick, and couldn't help but be annoyed at the way Bianca's cheeks flushed rosily in the cold as she smiled and chatted to all the people she knew.

Nym doubted she looked so pretty and comfortable in the cold. She certainly didn't feel comfortable. She was, in a word, cold, and with two feet of snow over the last three days, and a definite chill in the air, she had every right to be. But that didn't stop Bianca, who was determined to take Nym out and show her around Zurich, even though it had only been eight or nine months since Nym had been here last, and she hadn't forgotten where everything was.

Bianca stopped them in front of a jewelry store, but didn't go in. Nym, who had been in enough jewel shops with Narcissa, was quite happy not to go into this one, although the cold of her toes suggested she might be able to put up with it. Nym followed Bianca's bright blue gaze to the gold and diamond engagement rings, and all but groaned in exasperation. "You aren't serious."

"And why not?" Bianca wanted to know, sounding just the littlest bit hurt. Nym might be five years younger than her, but sometimes she got the impression that the tiny black haired witch was quite a bit older than she was - in cynicism, at least. "Julius and I have been dating for a year now."

"And in that time, you've failed utterly in turning him into anything other than a total prig." Now Bianca really did look hurt, and Nym relented a little. "I know you care about him, Bee, but let's face it, he doesn't really care all that much about other people."

"He cares about me," Bianca asserted, perfect diamond tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. Yes, yes, yes, Nym thought tiredly, that's why he's been cheating on you for the last four months. She'd suspected ever since her last visit that Julius Santos had a bit of a roving eye, and almost as soon as they had arrived, Sirius had ferreted out that the man had indeed been cheating on his girlfriend. Which, he'd told Nym, made him feel morally justified in breaking them up. After all, he rather liked Bianca, even if she wasn't really the type he fell for, and he didn't want her to be hurt by a pig like Santos. "I'd do the same for you," he'd assured Nym, straight-faced. "Trust me, you're much to good for most of the swine out there."

Speak of the devil, Nym thought wryly. There was Sirius, bounding through the snow towards them. "Oh, Nym, it's that dog again." Now she thought of it, Bianca was really just the littlest bit tedious. It didn't matter how many times she explained that the dog (Snuffles, she called him, much to Sirius's annoyance) was utterly harmless, Bianca persisted in being slightly afraid of him.

Snuffles jumped on her, knocking her backwards into the snow and shoving his cold wet nose in her ear. "Snuffles, no, gerrof!" Nym cried, trying to shove him off. Even as a dog, Sirius weighed more than she did. There was no way he was moving until he wanted to. "Look at me, you big brute, I'm soaked." He got off, and sat in the snow, drooling happily. "Disgusting dog." Sirius barked at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Come on, Nym, let's get you inside. We'll have a pot of hot chocolate. You must be frozen, no thanks to that mutt." She shot Sirius a glare that was supposed to be mean, but Bianca wasn't the sort that was particularly good at nastiness. Snuffles barked, and happily bounced through the snow, leading them back to the inn that Bianca kept with her mother.

As soon as they got inside, Bianca's mother took one look at Nym and swept her up in a thick blanket and deposited her in front of the fire, tutting and fluttering like a mad thing. "Please, Mrs. Backer… Mother Eva," she amended, recalling the woman's insistence that Nym call her that, "I'm fine, really. Snuffles and I were just having fun."

"Oh, that dog," the woman said in exasperation, bringing Nym and Bianca each a heavy mug of chocolate. "There ought to be a law against animals like that."

Sirius, sprawled on the floor, grinned up at her in his doggy way, drool falling from his open muzzle to the floor. It probably never occurred to Sirius how inelegant dogs actually were, Nym mused. As a human, Sirius would never put up with anything even remotely damaging to his dignity, but here he was, rolling around and drooling. Although, to be fair, he could be as annoying as he wanted, and no one would dream of getting back at him, and that would very much appeal to someone of Sirius's nature.

A gust of cold wind blew through the room as the door opened, admitting a man with immaculate hair and clothes. Probably charmed them to keep the snow off, Nym thought in disgust. Or, rather, paid someone else to do it. Julius Santos flashed around that smile of his that he thought was so winning and came to sit with Bianca and Nym.

"Hello darling," he said. He looked down at Nym. "You're Lupin's little friend, aren't you?"

"Oh Julius, you've met Nym before." Several times, and he never failed to forget her name. Bianca didn't seem to notice this, let alone consider it an annoying sign of Julius's conceit, but it irked Nym no end.

"Ah, the Black girl." He said it dismissively.

Now, Nym was not overly proud of her family. Most of them were mean, arrogant pricks, and she suspected that Regulus wasn't the only one among them who would happily kill her, given the chance. But she was damned if she was going to let some git like Julius Santos think he was better than her.

"Nymphadora Amelia Teresa Cassiopeia Black Malfoy Tonks, heiress to the Malfoy estate." Oh yes, he would remember her now. Anyone with a name like that (minus the Tonks part) had pure blood running back a thousand years, and even here in Switzerland, they knew the name Malfoy. It wasn't actually a part of her name, Nym admitted to herself, but since Narcissa and Lucius did occasionally introduce her as 'Nymphadora Malfoy,' she figured she was entitled to use it when needed. And it wasn't strictly true that she was heir to the Malfoy estate - she hadn't been since Draco had been born - but Santos didn't need to know that. The point was, as Lucius had constantly reminded her, in the wizarding world, the more names that you could pull out of your ass and claim as your own, the more respect you got. Well, those were his sentiments, although she paraphrased them a bit. For once, Nym could almost forgive her mother for giving her such a horribly long name.

"Forgive me, Miss… ah… Malfoy, you cannot believe how sorry I am not to have remembered." But you'll remember now, won't you, Nym thought acidly. You don't remember plain little Nym Tonks, but Nymphadora Malfoy, well, you won't forget _her _in a hurry. "A very great family, the Malfoys. I can't express how honored I am to know you." Disgusting, Nym thought.

Bianca looked delicately shocked by the turn of events. "Julius?"

"Yes sweetheart?" he said it absently, Nym noticed.

She hesitated. "It's nothing." Let her chew on that one for a while, Nym thought. See what a weasel her boyfriend is.

Sirius seemed to decide that he had been ignored for long enough. He planted his paws on the table, gave Nym a reassuring lick on the cheek, and went and put his head in Julius's lap, were he proceeded to drool as though it was what he had been born to do. Snuffles really could drool when he put his mind to it. Nym could still remember that time in her first year when she had been woken by Evans's screams after waking to find herself sleeping in a veritable puddle of drool. James had not been amused, but Nym hadn't been able to look Evans in the eye for a week without breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Erg! Get off, you stupid mutt!" At least, Nym was pretty sure that was what Santos said. It was largely punctuated with swears and screaming in Italian. He jumped up, shoved Snuffles away, and violently kicked the dog in the ribs.

Nym was out of her own seat in an instant, screaming right back at Julian. Before the man had even registered the diminutive girl's anger, he'd been blasted backwards into a wall and Nym was coaxing a winded Sirius into the back room of the inn.

Thank Merlin for small miracles, she thought in relief when they were safely out of sight. Sirius hadn't changed form, although she wouldn't have blamed him if he'd become human again and blasted Santos into kingdom come. It would just have been a bit difficult to explain to Bianca, and Mother Eva, and Santos, and everyone else. Plus there was a chance someone back home would get word of it, and Sirius didn't need the Ministry breathing down his neck about being an unregistered Animagus.

Almost as soon as they were out of sight, Snuffles sat down, and then a fully human Sirius was sitting on the ground in front of her, holding his ribs. "That fucking bastard," he wheezed. "That bloody, fucking…" Nym hushed him.

"Let me see the ribs." Sirius glared at her weakly. "Oh, get over it. Let me see." He opened his jacket and moved his shirt, all the while glaring at her rebelliously. Nym touched the reddening ribs gently with a finger, mindful of Sirius's hiss of pain. "You're lucky you didn't break any ribs. Then we would have had to get Remus to fix you up, and he'd want to know what you were up to."

"Lucky, you mean, because then I would have had to change back and kill the bastard," he gasped as a jet of light from Nym's wand hit the bruise. It seemed to glow purple for a moment, then faded. Nym tested the now clear skin, taking in his wince.

"It'll be sore for a bit."

She didn't miss the ironic look he sent her. "I know, youngling. I taught you that spell, remember?"

"You did not," she shot back, a smile tugging at her lips. "James did."

"But those were my bruises you learned on."

"Aye. And just what possessed you to go into the Two Broomsticks that day, that's what I'd like to know. Did you think just because they're gay they couldn't beat the crap out of you?"

"Language, young lady. And there wasn't a single one of them in there that could take me."

Nym rolled her eyes. "Well then, wasn't it lucky for them that it was four against one? Now, get up, and let's get back and watch the fun."

Sirius stood up, his customary grin firmly back in place. "We taught you well, didn't we, youngling?"

Back in the front room, there was a small crowd around the fallen form of Julius Santos. Bianca was on her knees, fretting over him, while Mother Eva hovered anxiously nearby. A pair of young wizards, probably Healer students from the Academy, were checking Santos over, poking, prodding, and asking inane questions.

"Who are the three Chasers for the Prague Puffskeins?" one asked, using his wand to shine light in one of Santos's eyes.

"The… how should I know?" Santos demanded.

"What was the name of the third town that Saint Barthelbey the Multifarious exorcised of wombats?" demanded the other, his wand prodding Santos's fingernails.

"Are you both completely barmy?"

"Who," the two wizards stopped their poking, "just hexed you into a wall?" Sirius was standing - looming - over them. He looked impressive, to Nym's eye. His hair was long and windswept, but it looked like he'd intended it to be that way, and it was nearly as deep a black as the long dragonhide coat that had been a birthday gift from Peter, James and Remus. Knee high dragonhide boots, over black trousers, gave him the look of a buccaneer. It was no wonder he got attention when he rode up on that flying motorbike of his. His expression, though, drew all eyes away from his clothes. He looked ready to nail Santos to the wall, very like the rare bugs in some eccentric naturalist's collection.

"Nymphadora…" Santos looked very pale, and he seemed to be getting paler by the word, "Amelia Teresa Cassiopeia Black Malfoy Tonks." Well, his memory was certainly intact, Nym thought wryly. She had a time remembering all that sometimes, and it was her own name.

She was well aware of the way the two young wizards drew away from Santos slightly, but was completely oblivious to the reason. Sirius, out of the corner of his eye, admired the picture his little cousin made. She had grown from a skinny little kid to a delicate young woman, who managed to look graceful and dignified as a duchess despite her youth (and if she still frequently dropped plates and tripped over chairs, at least there were none nearby at the moment to spoil the pocture). Narcissa hadn't, despite Nym's claims, dressed her up like a doll - she'd dressed her like the heiress to a very powerful wizarding family, in elegant custom-made black robes. And when she was as icy-faced as she was now (did she learn that from Lucius?) he couldn't believe a cowardly worm like his younger brother had ever dared to take her on.

"And why?" Sirius asked, his voice still perfectly flat.

Nym spoke up before Santos could. "He kicked Snuffles." And despite it all, despite of those hours of work that Narcissa had put into making Nym look like the perfect ice princess, she was still only thirteen, and little for it. Those three words… Sirius could have sworn they were magic. He could have sworn that every wizard in the room now saw not only an affront to the dignity of a very old and powerful wizarding family (with a reputation for nastiness that he'd never felt it appropriate to mention to Nym) but also an upset little girl who seemed no more than ten, whose pet had just been cruelly hurt by a bully. He could almost feel sympathy for Santos evaporate from the room. It didn't matter that the dog was huge and not the least bit friendly looking - Peter had once told him he looked like the Grim when he was in his Animagus form. Neither the dog nor the girl could be particularly threatening if she called him Snuffles. Who called a dog Snuffles? Sirius thought in a momentary flash of irritation. Really, he could put up with so much, but Snuffles? With a growl of irritation he turned back to the present situation.

"You kicked a little girl's dog."

"I… he… it drooled on me!" Santos's eyes were very wide now. Oh, bad move, Sirius thought, not without malicious glee.

"Dogs drool."

"Do you have any idea how much this suit cost?"

"Do I care? You attacked my little sister's dog." He wasn't a Malfoy; he was even less of a Malfoy than Nym was, but that didn't matter. Just let Santos think he was. "And I demand satisfaction." Ah, that time honored phrase. Santos was very pale now, very pale indeed. Time to rub a bit of salt in. "Or, you can duel my sister."

Which would he choose, Sirius wondered idly as he watched the conflicting emotions on Julius Santos's face. There really wasn't any way out of a duel now, not without looking like an utter creep and a coward in front of Bianca, her mother, and any number of people from the National Academy, some of whom had to know Santos. He could duel Nym, but that would make him look like a bully, picking on a little girl, even though Sirius well knew that Nym could beat this prat in a heartbeat. Which left the man no choice but to duel Sirius and that, Sirius well knew, was not an option that appealed over much to the cowardly Santos.

Sirius knew he looked scary. He'd dressed exactly to that purpose. He'd never tell Nym, but he'd been planning this confrontation ever since he met Santos their first evening in Zurich, after Nym had gone to bed. He'd taken one look at Santos - his expensive clothes, his face and hands completely devoid of any of the scars that came of a lifetime of looking for trouble and finding it more often than one even cared to look, his pride and lofty mannerisms - and his mind had kicked into overdrive. And now it was Christmas Eve, and the opportunity had just been too good to miss. And he couldn't miss it, he knew: Santos had let slip that he planned to ask Bianca to marry him at midnight tonight. So he'd dressed to impress, knowing just the effect he wanted to create, and he'd hoped for his chance to come, fearful all the while that he'd have to make some opportunity and Remus would see his hand. He was a little worried as it was that Remus would see his hand in this, suspect that he was deliberately breaking up Bianca and Santos, but he hoped his friend would be open to the suggestion that he and Nym had just reacted to events, and had no inkling of the potential consequences. As long as not too many details got around - and Sirius, knowing gossip, suspected they wouldn't, or at least not accurately - he was confident that Remus could be convinced.

"Alright." The older man was sweating already. Good for him.

Mother Eva seemed to recover her senses. "Not in here, you won't," she said fiercely. "I won't have you destroying my inn." Even before she had finished speaking, Sirius had caught Nym's eye, and gestured obliquely towards the distraught innkeeper.

"Oh, Mother Eva, of course not. The Academy will have a dueling court. Please, we would never distress you so."

Sirius swept her an elegant bow. "We wouldn't dream of impinging so discourteously on your hospitality, Mistress Backer," he said. "I cannot tell you how I treasure your goodwill." He took the plump woman's hands in his. "You have been so good to my little sister. I could not repay that kindness by causing you distress." The woman nodded tearfully.

Merlin, but he's a good actor, Nym thought in admiration. A few words, a fierce look, and a nice coat, and he's got the entire room under a spell. "However, I cannot allow this offence against my sister to go unpunished." He sent a flat look at where Julius was trying to console Bianca, who didn't look like she particularly wanted to be consoled, at least not by him. You'd never know how much he hated so many of those pureblooded families, Nym thought in awe. You'd never imagine he was a bloodtraitor. "Shall we go, then? No sense in wasting time." And just like that, he swept out of the room, taking many of its occupants with him. That was one of the things about Sirius that Nym had noticed: people followed him just to see what would happen next. And with Sirius, they were so rarely disappointed that some of them took to following him more often. He'd practically had a fan club at Hogwarts; it was no wonder Wormtail had idolized him.

The dueling room was a long room, elaborately made but with very little by way of furniture. Almost nothing, in fact, except for a few benches near the ends. Less things to damage, Nym supposed. A slightly raised platform ran down the middle of the hall, obviously for the duelers, and there were a couple of screens set up here and there - presumably for the spectators to hide behind if things got ugly.

Inside, Sirius chose his end and stripped off his coat, throwing it carelessly across a bench. His white linen shirt with its loose sleeves made him look like a bucaneer readying for a swordfight. Nym thought she heard a couple of nervously exctied giggles from near the doorway.

Sirius did a couple of stretches, not so much to loosen up as to keep people's eyes on him. Let them think he was comfortable and confident. Which, in all fairness, he was. He'd kept an eye on Santos the past few days, and was well aware that the man had not made it into the Academy based on his spell-casting. He was an astronomy student, and a decent hand at potions, but Sirius had always been strongest in those subjects that required talent with a wand, and his year and a half at the Auror's College had not only made him quicker, it had taught him a few underhanded tricks that had saved his neck more than once since.

"Seconds?" he asked. There was no reason for him to think that Santos would cheat, and thus require a Second to step in, but his grandfather had always insisted that a proper gentleman had a Second, and if there was one thing Sirius had taken away from his heritage besides a distaste for pride and nobility, it was a deeply ingrained knowledge of how to conduct a duel.

The two inane question-askers from the inn volunteered. They, of everyone, still seemed the most shell-shocked by Sirius. In a spare second, Sirius pulled Nym aside. "Take care of Bianca, lass. And for Merlin's sake, make sure Mooney doesn't interfere." The girl nodded and darted away to where Bianca stood near the center of the platform, looking pale. He watched her say something quietly to the older woman and lead her away to a side bench, and ignored what his second was saying.

He'd planned and schemed to get Santos to attack him, to yell at him, to do something to justify this duel. It hadn't been personal, then, it was just mischief that would coincidentally help out a friend, protect a rather sweet girl, and punish a git. But now… that stupid prat had kicked him. Now it was personal, and Sirius was determined to make this humiliating enough that Santos would never forget it, not if he lived to be five hundred and seven.

But at the same time, he mused as he stood back to back with his opponent, he couldn't seem cruel, or he'd lose everything he'd gained with that little performance back at the inn. Santos had to be seen to get a couple of shots off, although he'd be damned if he was going to let any of them hit him. But if the other man didn't even fire any in his direction, it really wouldn't look that good, now would it?

…one…

He should have let Nym do this.

…two…

It would have been more humiliating for the man, and Nym wouldn't have to hold back, but could vent months worth of rage, on behalf of herself and Remus, without worry.

…three…

Yes, that would have been satisfying, but ultimately, this would better help them achieve their goal.

…and turn…

He threw up a quick ward against the curse that Santos sent his way. He'd learned, these last few months, to judge a spell by the streak of light it left. Whatever it was that Santos had sent, it was rather nasty, although not particularly complicated, and the slight wobble suggested he either wasn't very good at it or he was scared. Either option worked well enough for Sirius. Was it a body bind, he wondered idily as he sent a quick spell at Santos, who suddenly had his feet swept out from under him so that he landed, quite painfully, on his back. He'd be a bit winded. Good, Sirius thought savagely, serves him right for kicking me. Another short spell had Santos pressing one hand to his side and wincing as he felt his ribs, which felt like they'd been kicked.

Julius's next spell singed the hair on his neck. Merlin, just because the man was obviously completely useless at dueling did not mean he didn't have to pay attention. That had only narrowly missed him and, unless he missed his guess completely, it had been meant to set him on fire. Not a nice person, that was Santos. His next spell didn't just dump the man on his ass, it lifted him up to flip through the air first, so that he landed with a resounding crash.

And still the man tried to hex him! Was he really so stupid? Or was he simply a masochist, and enjoyed all the pain he must now be feeling? He sensed, rather than saw, Mooney come in. Nym intercepted him effortlessly, and took him over to help her keep watch on Bianca, who was now close to tears. He kept his main attention focused on the man in front of him, though. Santos had already proven himself tricky.

"_Cruci_…"

"_Expelliarmus!_" This time Sirius didn't hold back, but threw himself into the spell. Santos's wand ripped itself out of his hand and flew, arrow-like, across the room to embed itself, still quivering, in the opposite wall. Julius himself flew the other way, hitting the wall with a bone-crunching crack and sliding down it to lie still.

Sirius took his time walking across the stage to his fallen opponent. For a wonder, not another person in the room moved, although he could distantly hear someone - Bianca, probably - crying softly. He stood over the man a moment, frowning. So there might have been need for Seconds after all: Santos had cheated, and had he been a hair slower, he might well have been the one lying in a heap on the floor. He didn't look around, but sensed other people moving up behind him. All that had just happened solidified with crystal clarity in his mind in a single instant, and he kicked Santos hard in the ribs. "The Cruciatus curse?" he demanded. He could, distantly, hear people murmuring behind him. The other man, curled around the side that Sirius had kicked, didn't answer. "An Unforgivable curse?"

There were more people in the room now. Of course, Sirius thought a bit absently, there would be wards all over the room in case someone took it into their head - much as Santos had - to cheat and use dark magic. There were professors and researchers and security wizards, pushing through the crowd of interested onlookers. He hadn't bargained on this, that was for damn sure. Why was it that every time he or James tried a prank on their own, without Remus watching over their shoulders, it suddenly got so much bigger than they had originally planned?

"Mr… Santos," the security wizard glanced at his partner for confirmation. "Can you stand up, please? We'd like to talk to you and Mr..."

"Sirius Black-Malfoy, at your service, sir."

"You and Mr. Black-Malfoy in private," the security wizard finished, obviously won over by Sirius's polite manner.

And Nym, his darling Nym, suddenly she was there, looking the height of affronted dignity and righteous anger. "First you kick Snuffles, and then you try to curse my brother. I hope they throw you in Azkaban, you…" She had her wand out, and looked ready to blast Santos into another wall. She was so perfect in word and manner that he could have hugged her just then - the moment she spoke, the security wizard had become another of the crowd that adored and sympathized with Miss Nymphadora Black-Malfoy.

"Please, miss, we'll take him out and make sure he's properly punished. You can put your wand away," the security wizard said kindly. Nym looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then nodded. When the man turned his back to look at Santos again, Nym caught Sirius staring and raised her eyebrows. Her eyes moved very deliberately to where Remus was talking to a tearful Bianca. Sirius gave her a slight nod of his head. He'd always known his little cousin was quick on the uptake, and here she was again, moving the guards towards the conclusion she wanted before they even had time to consider the issue. She was a gift from the gods of mischief, that was for certain.

He allowed the security wizards to escort him from the room. Walking proudly out the door with his back straight, he knew the final impression he was giving the onlookers: the pure blooded prince who was out to see that justice was done. Santos would never recover from this.

"What did the two of you do?" Remus demanded as soon as he and Nym had taken an inconsolable Bianca and her tearful mother back to their inn and made sure they were alright. "And don't you go giving me that look, Nym. Yeah, that 'what are you talking about, Remus, we would never do anything' look. _What did you do?_"

Nym hesitated. She'd have to tell him something. There was no way he would believe that all this had just happened. He'd known from the moment they arrived in Zurich that they were up to something. Still, she could always pull the innocent act with Remus, at least more than she ever could with James or Sirius. "We never meant… oh, it all got so out of hand." Would tears be appropriate at this point? No, they wouldn't. So why could she feel them forming in her eyes? "Sirius, he wasn't trying to do anything, really, he just drooled in Julius's lap to get a rise out of him. But then Santos, he completely over-reacted, and he kicked Sirius, really hard! And I, I just panicked, and I hexed him into a wall and then it just, it just escalated!" she finished in a rush.

"Hush, Nym, it's okay." He wrapped her up in a big hug, holding her tightly as she finished crying out all the stress of the last hour. It had started as a prank, but somehow it had gotten so out of hand: Sirius could have been really hurt! "I'm not mad," he promised. "Really, I'm not. I can't believe I thought you would actually set this up. I'm sorry, Nym." She hiccupped.

He soon sent her up to bed with a big mug of tea, but Nym was too excited to go to sleep just yet. She owled James, sending him a long letter telling him all about Santos and Bianca and the duel, and a picture of her with Remus and Sirius covered in snow from a snowball fight they'd had a few days before, with the Swiss chocolates she'd got him and Lily for Christmas. She had sent a copy of the same photo to her father, along with more chocolates, as a Christmas gift; she still wasn't on speaking terms with her mother, but she'd sent enough for both of them, knowing he would share.

After another week and a half of being fussed over by older Metamorphamagi and scrutinized by half the researchers in the Experimental Magic department, plus lots of side trips around Zurich and the surrounding country, it was time for Nym and Sirius to go home to England. Mother Eva had given her a big hug farewell, and tucked a bar of chocolate into her pocket 'for the journey'. Remus and Bianca came along to the floo hub, the latter all but hanging off Remus.

Bianca was nice enough, Nym decided as she said goodbye to the woman, but rather too flighty for someone as wonderful and kind and stoic as Remus. In hardly any time at all, the woman had gotten over Santos and moved on, and Nym had had to listen to long musings about how wonderful Remus was. Bianca would go on and on about how he had always been there for her, and how understanding and kind he was, and how grateful she was to have him. In short, it was very like listening to James go on about Lily, except that it lost something when Nym remembered that Bianca had talked about Santos much the same way just two weeks before.

Still, Remus seemed happy enough for the time being, although he still occasionally shot Sirius suspicious looks over Bianca's head. He had what up until then he had only dreamed about, though, so he never glared very hard. And Nym wasn't about to try anything to change it, even though it would spare her darling brother future heartache. Knowing Bianca, if she was detached from Remus, she'd probably move on to Sirius without a thought, and _that _would be a headache and a half.

In the floo terminal in London, Sirius caught her eye. "I give them four months, tops," he said.

"I'm saying six, ten at the outside."

"We'll give Prongs nine to a year, then, you take five to eight, and Remus gets anything over a year."

"Will he bet on his own relationship?"

"No, but if he wins, well, it's its own reward, isn't it?"

Nym considered this. If Remus and Bianca did indeed stay together for a year, that would be reward enough for Remus for it to be considered that he had won the bet.

"What are the stakes for the rest of us?"

"Winner gets a kiss from Snivellus?" Sirius suggested innocently.

Nym snorted. "If that's it, I'll forfeit right now."

"Fine, how about one of those giant bars of chocolate from Honeydukes?"

"You made yourself sick last time you tried to eat one of those on your own. And you still didn't finish it."

In a typically juvenile fashion, Sirius stuck his tongue out at her. "If I win, you can make a bet on how much of it I'll eat. Otherwise, belt up youngling."

Nym snorted. "Fair enough." They shook hands.

"Now let's get you back to Hogwarts so you can learn how much smarter I am than you," Sirius told her with a wicked grin.


End file.
